Riding Towards Sunset: ARC 4 No Going Back
by Mr DCWood
Summary: The main reason why Tessa donned the Queen's mask was always to uncover the identity of her father's murderer and bring him to justice. Now, after so long...the truth will finally be revealed. But are Tessa and her family prepared to pay the price?
1. New Evidence

_Disclaimer: Queen of Swords was created by Fireworks Entertainment, and is owned by ContentFilm. This story is NOT affiliated with the rights holders or the show's original creators. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made. This story is for entertainment purposes only._

_The author would like to thank Robert Vincent for all his valuable support and input._

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><p><strong>Chapter 14: New Evidence<strong>

_Journal of Sergeant…_

_Whoops. Almost a month after my promotion and I'm still not used to my rank now._

_Journal of LIEUTENANT Lionel Williams, entry 3,027._

_October 23rd, 1818._

_God, what a month._

_With each new victory, a bigger battle always lies ahead. After the successful exorcism of corruption, came the battle to the death with Malcolm. After the promotion, came a resurgence in crime. I became more of a target than ever, with new bandits coming over from Mexico AND America to try and challenge me._

_But like all challenges that came our way, we fought them off. We survived and triumphed, the Queen and I, and our friends. It was tough, but we prevailed. We always do._

_That's something I've tried to remember as now – with all other obstacles fallen before us – we finally move forward towards our biggest victory of them all. I've rarely felt so confident in my life. The last time I was so sure of this was when I provided detailed, inside movements of Napoleon's movements to the Allied Powers, which ultimately allowed my pal, the Iron Duke himself to boot the French out of Spain for good._

_So I've got plenty of good reason to be sure of my chances of success by liberating another realm, another haven…here and now._

_I'm going to give the Queen of Swords the means to destroy her greatest enemies. I'm going to save our home again, for my wife and child, and end this latest book with a 'happily ever after', liberating Santa Helena from tyranny and fear, and giving the people back their independence._

_But before I do, there's one important question that's gone unanswered for FAR too long. I owe Tessa Alvarado my life, and the lives of all I hold dear. And I'm going to repay her for everything she's done._

_Today's the day…when the truth will FINALLY be revealed._

_I WILL find out…WHO killed Tessa's father, Don Raphael Alvarado._

* * *

><p><em>Here I am…in Monterey.<em>

_Officially, I'm on special assignment for Montoya. I've been here for a week on behalf of my glorious commander to oversee important military business with his official consort, Colonel Raphael, just as much of a conniving, despicable sadist as dear Luis. We've been exchanging hefty tax transfers, hefty munitions and supplies, and all kinds of lovely pleasantries in the Custom House, still ongoing construction._

_Montoya and Raphael have had a relationship that's benefited both of them for years. Doing their dirty work and overseeing their shady dealings at the expense of innocent lives makes me sick, but that's not the real reason why I'm here._

_It all started at the last get-together we had at the Alvarado Hacienda, shortly after my promotion. All laughs and smiles…then I see Tessa looking at her father's portrait. I offer sympathy, then we start talking about him, and his unresolved murder. During my initial investigations of the Queen of Swords and who's-who in Santa Helena, I learned of Tessa's dad, the rumours, the cover-ups etc, but it wasn't until later when I actually knew Tessa that I knew of her failed attempts to uncover the identity of her father's murderers._

"_Let me see what I can do," I offered._

"_Lionel, I've tried so many times," she warned gravely. "Whoever was responsible are very dangerous. They don't care about my pain or what I've lost. They will kill to keep the truth buried, and all my attempts have ended in failure and nearly cost the lives of those I hold dear."_

"_Kid, you DESERVE an answer. I'm GOOD at this. And I OWE you."_

"_No, you don't…"_

"_Yes, I do. Do I have your complete trust to at least try?"_

_Tessa had stared, smiled warmly, then told me I already had it._

_So over the last few weeks, along with all the other crap, I've been devoting my spare time to finding out more about Don Alvarado's death. Going over the 'official' reports that claimed that he died in a horse-riding accident, listening to the fearful whispers of people…_

_And of course, breaking into Montoya's office at night, and leaving the room undisturbed with him none the wiser._

_All this has been a risky game, but so was surviving under Napoleon's rule. Besides, by breaking into Joseph Bonaparte's study back in Madrid, I was able to turn the tide of the war. And me actually gaining more power as a lieutenant, and having my own set of loyalists to watch my back and cover up, I was able to unearth quite a few details…_

_Tessa told me about her Uncle's efforts, the set-up of Don Ricardo (a personal friend of mine) and the man called Raul._

_Raul._

_Looking into his background, I can understand why people make sure to forget this guy. Just about worthless in almost everyway. Poor orphan, insignificant vermin, illiterate clod, compulsive liar, notorious troublemaker, greedy thief, evil sadist, vile tongue, Grisham's punching bag…_

_In a nutshell, dime-a-dozen cliché._

_According to character witnesses, Raul was just a lowly private, who thought himself more than what he was worth. Tried to pilfer other soldiers' wages, steal some of Montoya's pillages…and always ended up paying the price. The only reason why he was kept around for so long was like any other rabid dog. He was good at killing._

_But for whatever reason, this Raul was present at Don Raphael Alvarado's death. He knew exactly what happened and who was responsible, which led him to desert the army. Tessa sought him out and offered to pay to know the identity of her father's killers._

_Good plan, but it went balls-up. By a FLUKE, Raul found out that Tessa Alvarado was really the Queen of Swords, and tried to sell her out to Montoya. Tessa came up with a damn good cover story to fool Grisham and his men – I KNEW there was something weird about that 'being tied-up over a shaman' crap – making Raul public enemy number one in the process._

_That's when things got really bad. Raul later attacked Tessa at her own home, wanting to make her suffer, kill her and then ransack her hacienda for the riches. He told her all sorts of messed-up lies about her dad's death. But like the trooper she is, the kid blocked it out and skewered the bastard with a pitchfork._

_Annoyingly, though…the truth died with him._

_Or so it had seemed. After finishing going over the reports on Raul, I was ready to put my head through a wall. He had no friends whatsoever, no accomplices, couldn't even read or write, making his supposed 'written-confession' blackmail of Montoya as empty as 98 percent of the 'truths' he spewed out…I was ready to call it quits until I found out something VERY interesting._

_Turned out Raul had a COUSIN._

_His name was Juan, another miserable tearaway, about the same age. Well, initially another miserable tearaway. A life on the run with Raul dragging him by the arm after killing an abusive aunt. Until they ended up in Santa Helena, with Montoya (always desperate for troops) forcibly drafting them both into his militia of killers._

_But Juan turned out different. He made up for not going to school by turning himself into one hell of an autodidact. His reading and writing translated into knowledge and intelligence, and he got good. SO good that he became corporal as well as Montoya's personal chronicler. Even married and had a kid._

_And according to 'official' records of the day of Don Alvarado's death…Juan was present at the event with Raul. Judging from his family-man status and his record, I hypothesised that he'd be likely and actually willing to help solve the case._

_Until I found out that Juan had been declared DEAD. Perished with his wife in a house fire. Bodies were even recovered. I was originally going to accept this latest 'dead end' when I wisely chose to read on. I'm really glad I did._

_Because the night this happened…was EXACTLY the same DATE that Don Alvarado was murdered. And the date ALSO matches exactly with the one when Raul's desertion was reported. Furthermore, it said in the reports that no child's body was recovered from that fire. So Juan's boy…was only labelled deceased._

_Too many juicy coincidences to overlook, methinks. Granted, it's just speculation…but speculation has served me well thus far. So after gathering what I could, covering up my trail, I began to set to work, with the presumption that Juan had faked his death and was still alive._

_That's what I did._

_So after weeks of going through time-wasting bandits, beating up killers, chasing leads and paying off useful contacts…I found out what I needed to know. Juan was alive, with his kid, living under false names. They're living in Monterey of all places, the perfect hellhole to hide in so long as you keep your head down. Sadly, Juan's got himself into debt, which is BAD given this town's tax-collectors._

_Thanks to people pointing me in the right direction, tracking this deserter down to his address through his financial records, volunteering to oversee the military business in Monterey, using it as the perfect cover-up for my own agenda…it's all coming together now._

_This whole business with Raul and Juan, Montoya and Tessa reminds me of all the horrible crap I've had to deal with in life. _

_Pablo, Malcolm, Grisham…the nameless, faceless piece of trash who murdered my own parents in cold blood…_

_I've grown up having to accept the fact that my parents' killer was never ever caught…but I'll be damned if I'm gonna let the same thing happen to Tessa. I love that kid, and I owe her. And I'm not coming home until I find out the truth once and for all._

_Tessa's long suspected that Montoya and Grisham have been involved in her dad's death ever since the beginning. And I'm sure she's right, I know it. Everything POINTS to it._

_And with Tomas covering my tracks, stopping my superiors from even suspecting what I'm up to…it's now time to move in._

_END OF LOG._

* * *

><p>"You promised me it would be tonight, Diego!" he seethed angrily, grabbing the man's shirt and slamming him against the barrels.<p>

"I'm sorry, Nuño! Raphael's bleeding me dry! You know how his thugs just…!"

"Big deal!" he leered into the owner's face. "Everyone's got thug problems in Monterey! Some more than others! Like _me_! You said I'd have work tonight! You OWE me payment for the last several shifts!"

"Nuño, I'd never screw you over, you know that! It's just…!"

"I'm desperate! Can't you understand that? I NEED the money! If I don't get it tonight, I'm…!"

The door was smashed off its hinges. Nuño and Diego looked up to the stairs, as the smashed door fell onto the stone steps and was then kicked aside, where it fell to the hard floor and landed with a loud, banging crash. Nuño's arms lost their strength and fell away from Diego's shirt. No longer pinned against the barrels, Diego's body slackened with fear. The two shady accomplices backed away, as a sinister looking, well-dressed man, with three burly accomplices in tow, entered the cellar and strode towards the pair of them.

Their steps 'clomped' on the stone steps, growing louder and louder, rattling Nuño and Diego, who looked to his accomplice, his shaky eyes wanting an explanation. Nuño could only swallow. The only movement his fear-frozen body would allow.

"Sixty reales, Nuño," grinned the bearded felon, tugging at his gold earring. "Where is it?"

"I'll get it to you…"

"_Thought _so. Get rid of the _witness_."

"Hey! Hey! I'm just trying to earn a living! I don't even know this guy or you! He just broke into my wine cellar!" protested Diego as one of the towering brutes grabbed him by the scruff of his collar, lifting him off his feet and carrying him away, as the owner shouted, "I'm friends with Colonel Raphael! If you don't unhand me, I swear I'll…!"

The disgusted Nuño shook his head as the rat and his catcher left the cellar to the alley out the back. Then Nuño felt the fist thrust into his stomach and nearly rupture an artery. Then he felt a sharp, bulky elbow drive into his spine and make him eat floor. One of the towering behemoths pinned Nuño down with his foot, the other then grabbed his hair and yanked his head back.

Their shifty leader knelt down to stick his dagger right up Nuño's nostril, glaring, "Neighbourhood protection, living benefits, food, drink, creature comforts, and of course, Raphael not even knowing you exist…quite a bill you've racked up with us, amigo."

"Please, I just need a little more time to…" explained Nuño.

"You've kept us waiting for _six __months_, Judas," sneered the beard, tugging at his earring again. "You asked us to be nice, so we cut you some slack. Now…we're going to cut you into vulture food along with your…"

"No, please! I BEG…!"

But before the impatient thug and his bullies could silence the frightened Nuño, silence fell in the cellar upon hearing the rattling 'wump' that landed just a few feet away from then. Everyone's eyes cast to the bag, doubtless containing gold. Then they all turned their attention to the person who had thrown it.

"There you are, sixty reales," explained Williams, arms folded. "Debt repaid."

The beardy bandit tugged at his earring again, staring at the Golden Lieutenant, "Who the hell are you?"

"I would've thought that was obvious," the American explained condescendingly, gesturing down his uniform. "Your payment's gathering dust, by the way."

The criminal beard stared again, and then stood up to face him, chuckling, "You an American - 'wise guy'?"

"Yeah, I'm a wise guy," Lionel grinned back proudly. "And you're obviously a smart business man, judging from the looks of you. So you take the money, you go home happy, _he_ goes home with a lesson learnt with an obligation to make future payments on time. Sounds like a win-win situation."

"Why are _you_ so keen to pay Nuño's bill?" asked the beard, still tugging his earring, much to Lionel's annoyance. "What's he got that so important to you?"

"That's nothing to do with business now, is it?" The soldier paused before asking intently, "So are you going to take the money and go home a happy man?"

The beard stopped tugging at his earring, glared long and hard at the soldier, then solemnly shook his head.

"No. I want _his_ money. _That_ was _our_ agreement. And _he__'__s_ got to pay for it. But _yours_ is certainly appreciated. So _thanks._ Boys..."

"Tsk, tsk," said Williams. "You're not even worth _one_ reale, you little asshole. So you should be more than thankful for what you're getting. Sixty-times your value and walking away with your _health_. You walk away with the gold, he comes with me, _everyone__'__s_ happy. _Last __chance._ _Better_ take it."

The beardy bandit snorted a laugh, grabbed Williams' shirt and drew the knife to his throat.

"Not so _wise_ now, are you, Ameri…?"

His question was interrupted by Williams' grabbing his arm, twisting it to make him drop the knife. Lionel inflicted a fierce punch to his stomach, winding the shifty beard. He collapsed in a heap, huddled and clutching his innards tightly, as one of the big bullies advanced menacingly towards Williams, who just turned, cocked his head slightly, and then head-butted the towering brute right in the face. Lionel's hard head broke the big bully's nose, caving it deep into his face. He fell flat on his back, gurgling deep in pain and shock.

Lionel immediately expected an attack from the beard's other cohort, but it never came. Curious, he turned to see that Nuño had vanished. And he'd obviously left a souvenir. The other mammoth henchman lay on his back, eyes rolled upward and blood pouring out of his head. The bag of gold was gone, but a few coins had spilt out onto the floor, doubtless in the haste of Nuño's escape.

"Great," seethed the Golden Lieutenant in annoyance, drawing his pistol, moving his arm behind him to the right and pulling the trigger. The shot caught the surprised beard right in the chest, making him drop his own gun. His attempt to catch the soldier unawares had failed…completely.

"And _you_…" pointed Lionel angrily to the beard's body, as he holstered his weapon, "you should've quit while you were ahead…wise guy."

Even though Diego's bar was a rowdy, raucous inn, Williams knew that _someone_ doubtless would've heard the gunshot. Two out of four were dead, which was bad. Diego had fainted after Williams had rescued him from the thug who had dragged him outside. The cantina-owner's attacker had been knocked out from behind and tied up, unable to go anywhere or identify Williams, and the man with the broken nose was too deep in shock to remember anything. So – by a fluke – Lionel would getaway with no one knowing he was involved in a killing at a public place.

Still, things had spiralled out of control. Nuño had gone and taken the money, some of it Williams own, some of it stolen from Montoya and Raphael, some of it Tessa's -which she'd agreed to give because she trusted Lionel. And now, Williams had lost it, along with his only lead on the case.

Having fled the cellar and into the city alleys, the Golden Lieutenant gritted his teeth. Monterey was a maze, and Nuño obviously knew the place like the back of his hand. Plus, he'd obviously killed that criminal, when no one was looking, making him dangerous and unpredictable. And desperate for money, obviously.

But not out of _greed_. It went much _deeper_.

The words and actions of Nuño and those butchers spoke for themselves.

Williams had the financial records, the addresses, personal details; all the information he'd gathered and bartered for over the last several weeks. He knew where to find _him_. Nuño wouldn't get far at all. But the attempted meet-up had been compromised. As he ran through the crowds, taking shortcut after shortcut, following every sign of a fleeing fugitive, Williams knew he had to get him and get the answers before…

…

The punch greeted him as soon as he ran round the corner into the street. Williams didn't have time to nurse his throbbing mouth as the hands grabbed his jacket, picked him up, pulled him inside to the nearest building and threw him to the floor. Before the American could recover, Nuño had thrust a chair hard onto his chest, pinning him down, with one of the struts pressed against the lieutenant's throat, choking him. Nuño sat down, using his weight to drive the chair's force harder into his chest and throat. Williams grunted and gasped for breath, before daring to open his eyes.

The barrel of Nuño's pistol was staring right back at him, and Tessa's warnings were once more ringing in Lionel's ears.

"_Whoever was responsible are very dangerous. They don't care about my pain or what I've lost. They will kill to keep the truth buried, and all my attempts have ended in failure and nearly cost the lives of those I hold dear."_

The glaring man continued to do so. Lionel grimaced angrily at him, refusing to be afraid, as his quarry's real personality – his real identity – began to emerge.

"How stupid do you think _I_ am, American?" Nuño whispered, demanding to know. His class was peasantry, but despite his lowliness, he had quite a clean appearance. His face was stern, fierce, yet his green eyes betrayed a hint of humanity. He was of average height, yet strong build, sporting short, tidy black hair that reached his neck and shoulders. He also had a thin, black moustache and beard, and was wearing brown pants and boots, white shirt with short sleeves and ochre waist coat. He had a few hairs on his arms and chest, and quite a few on the back of his neck.

Despite the situation he was in, Lionel was at least grateful that his quarry-turned-captor didn't have a _stench_.

"I asked you a question, American," repeated Nuño slowly, his aim as steady as a rock. When Williams didn't answer, Nuño explained, "I _always_ know when I'm being chased. You _have __to_ in order to survive in Monterey. You think I wouldn't know you'd been sniffing around? Asking questions about where I live and my debts? I hear rumours and whispers just as much as the next devil."

"Well, if you know _that_ much…" grunted Lionel, choking for breath, "then I might as well start addressing you by you real name… Juan."

The Spanish deserter sneered and pressed his pistol right into Williams' face, angered over being called that name.

"I don't know who you are, American," he said venomously, "but I'm good at taking guesses. Your uniform and badge are those of a lieutenant. I've never seen you around Monterey before, so you're obviously not one of Raphael's soldiers. You've sought me out, willing to pay off my debts, meaning you obviously want me alive. My welfare matters enough to you that you're willing to kill my debt collectors…and I strongly doubt anyone else knows you're here.

So that means…you're from Santa Helena. _Aren__'__t__…__you_?"

Williams nodded his head slightly, daring to confirm as the pistol remained pressed in his face. Juan studied the American for a few more moments. The wheels in the deserter's head turned in computation. Upon reaching his conclusion, the Spaniard chuckled menacingly.

"There's only _one _person who knew I was still alive," Juan revealed, his mood now darkening. "It was Raul, wasn't it? That scum-sucking vermin sent you, didn't he? He sold me out and now you're here to bring me in? So he can get a full pardon, a juicy reward and be back in Montoya's good graces? Well, give Raul a message from me..."

Juan cocked his pistol, leered deeper into Lionel's face and stated clearly, "You're crude, inexcusable filth…and you deserve to…"

"Raul's _dead_," interrupted Williams in a fierce whisper. "He's been dead for _over __a __year_."

Juan was genuinely shocked, his eyes quickly widening and looking upward. The deserter allowed himself a brief exhale before renewing his intimidating stance, refocusing on the soldier.

"I don't _believe_ you."

"You've got me pinned down, helpless and at gunpoint," choked Lionel, still managing to remain calm. "I spent all this time trying to find you and was trying to _help __you_ back there. Why would I choose to lie now after all that?"

"I don't know what your little game is, American, but Raul never thought things through. He didn't care about finesse or how half-assed his schemes was. As long as he got gold, that was all that mattered to him. So whatever this is all about…"

"Then I'm _wrong_," interrupted Williams bravely. "And you should kill me now and run. Just like you've done ever since…well, _you_ _know_."

Juan just stared. There was no antagonism in Williams' voice. Rather, there was an understanding. And something of a respect. And sympathy. Thinking about it all, Juan withdrew his gun completely from Lionel's face, yet remained sat on the chair, still pinning the American. The deserter sat up a little, just enough to allow him to breathe. But still enough to keep Lionel pinned.

"Who are you?" Juan demanded to know.

"My name is Lieutenant Lionel Williams, and YES. I AM from the Spanish forces situated in Santa Helena, California. Neither Colonel Montoya or Captain Grisham know I'm seeking you out, but I'm not here about _them_ or Raul. I'm here on behalf of _someone __else_."

"I'm listening."

"I've tracked you down, Juan, because I'm here to _help_ you. And I really need yours."

Juan stared again at Lionel. Part of the Spaniard was inclined to hear him out, but most of him…the damaged soul…was highly wary and mistrusting.

"Look," offered the American, knowing that the deserter was waiting for him to continue, "We can't stay here. Someone will have discovered the mess back at the cantina cellar by now. I've got a proposition that will take some explaining. Either we go somewhere more secret and safer to negotiate, or you take a run with all those reales and spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder. Or kill me. Or both. _As __usual_."

"Why should I trust you…'Lieutenant Lionel Williams'?" asked Juan sceptically.

"Because I've essentially resolved your debts. Because I saved your life. And because _I __give __you __my __word._ And from one _father_ to another…my word's all I can _give_."

The hint of humanity in Juan's eyes suddenly sparked, becoming more visible than anything else he was showing. Hesitance began to form on the deserter's face, and when he realised that Williams wasn't going to take advantage to free himself, Juan slowly stood up and removed the chair from the American, allowing him to breathe properly and get to his feet.

"Thank you," said Williams, rubbing his throat to get the circulation flowing again.

"Don't bother," retorted Juan darkly, as they made for the back door. "I'm the _last__ person_ on this Earth that should be thanked for anything."

* * *

><p>Even though Lionel knew where Juan lived, the soldier realised how important it was to win the deserter's trust. He couldn't just barge in on his home and strong-arm him into helping. Besides, Juan clearly wasn't the kind of man who scared easily, and evidently knew how to survive.<p>

And another crucial factor was that Lionel couldn't really get to Juan's home without help. It in was the lowest of the low, the darkest dregs of Monterey; so filled with crime and vermin that not even Colonel Raphael's men dared to venture. Ironically the most dangerous part of the city was also the safest, so long as folk kept their heads down.

Juan's knowledge of shortcuts and secure routes allowed them both to navigate the maze of dangerous streets and alleys, which made Lionel's journey so much more safer and him all the more thankful for Juan's help. After avoiding criminals and corrupt soldiers, the two made finally made it to Juan's home with no one the wiser.

It was a dump. It was a smelly, rotting little shack that looked utterly decrepit. The roof had holes, the brickwork was crumbling, the front door was hanging off its hinges and the windows were boarded up. An appalled Williams looked to the indifferent Juan, who explained simply, "It pays not to draw attention to yourself."

_You__'__ve__ GOT __to __be __kidding__ me,__pal,_ thought the Golden Lieutenant to himself, as they went round the back and through the door on the other side of the house. The door knob came off in Juan's hand. The deserter sighed, looked at Williams, and then threw it away. Turning to the door, Juan kicked it in, and gestured "After you" to his guest.

The instant Williams had entered the house, though, he found himself flying onto his back. Immediately alarmed, the Golden Lieutenant struggled to fight off the dog that had pounced on him. It barked fiercely at the bewildered American, snapping its jaws threateningly at him.

"Hold him, Toro!" cried out a youthful, yet courageous voice, running into the room holding a frying pan over his head. The eight-year-old then felt a powerful hand grab his wrist and looked up to see his father tear the frying pan out of his grasp.

"Dammit, boy!" snapped Juan angrily, lifting him off the floor and looking him in the face. "I told you to remain in bed before I left!"

"Sorry, papa," he said quickly with apologetic eyes and his feet dangling. "But you said we had to watch out for intruders…"

"I _know _what I said, Julio!" Juan lowered his son back to the floor and then clipped him round the head. "I taught you how to take care of yourself and how to _think_! _Never_ to cross the line!"

"But, Papa…!"

"This man is my _guest_," explained the Spaniard, calming down. "Toro, get off of him!"

The Doberman looked to his master, then sniffed the stranger just to be sure. Seemingly satisfied, Toro let Williams sit up, gave the relieved soldier a dubious glance and then walked off back to bed.

_It__'__s __gonna __be __all __worth __it,_Lionel told himself, standing up and dusting himself off. _It__'__s __gonna __be __all __worth__ it._

"Papa, you said all soldiers are devil's children," Julio protested fearfully. "Why have you invited…?"

The Golden Lieutenant was genuinely shocked and appalled when Julio had said that. Turning to Juan, he saw the deserter trying to hide his shame, who then dismissed, "Past your bedtime, Julio. You've got to be up early for home schooling."

"But, Papa…"

"To _bed_, boy," Juan ordered, more gently this time. His son nodded obediently and then retreated to his room, looking over his shoulder at the stranger. A confused Lionel could only study the boy as he went downstairs to the cellar where he slept. Julio was a brave kid, questioning and suspicious, yet obedient with a good heart. In some ways it reminded Williams of Theresa.

The American Soldier saw the Spanish Deserter check through holes in the wall and cracks in the boarded-up windows to ensure that they were safe, then shut the broken door, placing the wooden plank across to latch it for extra security. Juan then struck a match to light a gas lamp, providing some dim comfort and lighting in the room.

"When I told my son that all soldiers are devil's children, Williams," explained Juan menacingly, "I was telling the _truth_. I should know, I was _one__ of__ them_ once. But I'm prepared to give _you_ the benefit of the doubt due to your silver tongue. But Montoya _also_ had one. So, with _that_ in mind…just what is this 'proposition'?"

* * *

><p>With a bottle of ale on the table, both Juan and Williams had a tankard each to help them discuss. Lionel explained what he already knew about Juan, and how he tracked the deserter down, telling stories about breaking into Montoya's office, dealing with time wasters and contacts. As he listened, Juan lit himself a cigarette and started to smoke. The Golden Boy turned down an offered smoke, explaining that it was a habit he'd never indulged in.<p>

"Golden Boy who drinks…yet doesn't smoke, eh?" snorted the amused deserter.

"Is that a problem?" retorted the American, taking a gulp of booze. He found the ale strong and a little too bitter for his tastes, but still very agreeable.

"What about Raphael? Aren't you worried what _he__'__ll_ do when he finds you're up past your bedtime?"

"My business is next to finished here. In any event, loyalists cover up my footsteps."

"Ooh, you have loyalists," mocked Juan with sarcasm as he drank. "Makes you feel good, does it, American? Proud? Respected? Elite? Like Grisham? Like Montoya?"

"You tell me, Spaniard," Lionel mocked back. "_You__'__ve_ had more experience in _that_ department than _I_ have."

Juan angrily slammed his mug down on the table. Then, with clenched teeth and a spray of saliva, retaliated with, "I was dragged out of the gutter and treated like all the other turds Montoya fished out! The only person who was more despised than me was Raul! Don't you _dare_ presume…!"

Juan's rant was abruptly cut-off by an impatient stare from Williams. The deserter snorted and smirked, recognising that now wasn't the time for any tit-for-tat. And that Juan _had_ asked Williams to touch a nerve.

"Touché, Williams," he conceded. "So now you've explained how you tracked me down…you've _again_ stressed that I am important to you. You've settled my debts, saved my life, and reached out to me as a _parent_. You say you're not here on behalf of Montoya, you give me good news about Raul…but all I've _heard_ from you…is _how_. Now…I want to know _why_."

Williams sighed after taking another gulp of alcohol, saw Juan blow out a puff of smoke, still waiting. Lionel returned the stare for a few more seconds before explaining 'why'.

"I need your help with an unsolved murder."

Juan narrowed his eyes and took the cigarette from his mouth.

"Unsolved murders happen all the time here in California, American," snorted Juan derisively. "Monterey, Santa Helena, San Jose, San Diego…we do live under an oppressive Spanish government – where _anything_ goes - in case you hadn't noticed."

"You know damn well what murder I'm talking about," Williams snapped, having had enough of the man's pessimism.

"Can you blame me for having such a lowly view of the world and all the maggots that infest it?" asked Juan, noting Williams' frustration. "After all I've been through? After the number of evil, ruthless bastards who've victimised me? And doubtless you?"

The Lieutenant thought about it for a moment before answering, "Believe me when I say I _know_ and _understand_ what you've gone through. Now, I'm asking you nicely…"

"Williams, if you had any idea the _sheer__ number_ of unsolved murders _I__'__ve _been part of…"

"_Alright_," conceded the Golden Boy calmingly, choosing to take Juan's word. "I need to know who murdered Don Raphael Alvarado."

The deserter nearly choked on his beer as soon as he heard that name. He spluttered and quickly swallowed the drink, and beat his chest to try and regain composure. Williams recognised Juan's reaction as confirmation that his theory was (at least in part) correct.

Knowing that there was no point in denying anything now, Juan hesitantly asked, "You're investigating on behalf of his _daughter_…?"

"Yes. How did you know he even had a child? When she wasn't even in California when it happened?"

"Because…because…" Juan's mood changed completely as his voice trailed away.

"I can't help you," the deserter said, rather abruptly. "Whatever you're offering, I cannot aid you."

Williams kept silent.

"Leave now. Thank you for all your help, Lieutenant, but I don't need your money. Take it and go back to Santa Helena."

Lionel didn't come back with an angry refusal or a question. He didn't stand up, take the money and leave. He just remained where he was and had some more beer. Juan angrily took his pistol from under a tatty, dog-chewed cushion and pointed it at the Golden Lieutenant's impassive face.

"I said 'leave'!" demanded Juan, his eyes welling up with tears. When Williams still refused, the Spaniard cocked the pistol and tightened his grip to stop the gun shaking. Lionel blinked his eyes at Juan and said simply, "Just tell me."

The deserter was more scared than he'd shown all evening. His fear evidently ran deep, and was almost consuming. Juan had done a commendable job in unlearning his compassion to survive. But like the spark of humanity over his son…Juan's compassion was buried, but not dead yet.

"What can you do for me?" asked Juan eventually, still shaking the gun.

"I can get you your _life_ back," Williams swore truthfully. "But I can't do that if you plan on taking mine."

Juan chose to calm down and placed the pistol on the table. Picking up his cigarette from the ashtray, Juan took another smoke and then looked back up at Williams after tapping the end to shake off the excess ash.

"Life had always been a curse instead of a blessing," began the Spaniard bitterly. "Well, you said you knew about my aunt and my cousin…" Lionel remained respectfully quiet as Juan continued, "Being in the army was no different than in our aunt's house or a life on the run after we killed her…

"It was dogs eating dogs in a stupid game for survival. Only change was Montoya was the one who now fed us and held our leashes. I was sick of it. So sick of it when I felt like putting the gun in my mouth and ending it all…

"Then I saw _her_. It all happened so fast. Laying eyes on her, the passion and ecstasy we shared in that hotel room…

"She was such a beautiful creature, the likes of which I'd never seen before."

"What was her name?" asked Lionel gently.

"Laura…" smiled Juan, his gaze faraway in remembrance. Turning back to Williams, he then explained, "She was one of Don Alvarado's most faithful workers. A woman who grew up in poverty…and loved gardening. He found her, hired her…_saved_ her. That's how I came to know _him_."

The Golden Lieutenant nodded, as Juan furthered, "I was determined to prove myself worthy of her. With Laura's aid, I taught myself how to read and write. A skill that Raul found stupid and pointless…and Montoya thought he could put to good use when he found out how proficient I'd become. All my reports and gift for forging is what bagged me my promotion to corporal…and doing Montoya's tedious paperwork."

"Such as chronicling reports and filing?" Williams asked.

"More than that. Destroying any evidence that could incriminate him, making copies of files he used for blackmail, doctoring deeds that allowed him to either charge landowners more tax…or usurp them completely."

"Did Laura ever find out about this?"

"She didn't know, and she told me she didn't _want_ to know," Juan darkly insisted. "But she begged me to not follow the path as Raul. He _revelled_ in all the blood he spilt, all the money he pilfered and all the people he wound round his finger with his _lies._"

_I __know__ that __feeling_, thought Lionel.

"Our love bloomed and we continued to survive. Thanks to Don Alvarado, we were able to keep our relationship secret and earn a quiet little shack just outside of Santa Helena. It was just within reach for me to go to see Laura, then be back in time before anyone could even suspect us.

"I really didn't understand why someone of Alvarado's stature was helping me. I cannot even attempt to explain. Like Laura, he was fond of me, took us both into his confidence. And I really don't know what I'd done to deserve it."

"So what exactly happened next?"

"With the Don's help, and the money we'd both saved, we were finally able to marry. The padre performed the ceremony in secret.

"It was the happiest day of my life…" Juan could see it like it was only yesterday. Laura looking so beautiful and strong, and equally happy as he. Her beautiful cheeks and hair that smelled of roses, her positive smile and sparkling eyes.

Lionel recognised the faraway look again. The more Juan spoke of his past, the more Williams realised that the deserter was just like him.

"Only the four of us – the Padre, the Don and ourselves - would know about the union. Alvarado and Quintera promised to keep our secret. And for years, we safeguarded our marriage successfully. All of it, even the birth of our son…Julio."

"Then let me guess…" exhaled Williams in painful deduction, "Raul found out."

"_Yes__…_" Juan blew out a bitter puff of smoke. "_Raul_ found out. Broke into our house and played his little games, demanding money off us, otherwise he'd tell Montoya. I said no and that I would kill him unless he kept his fat mouth shut.

"Then Raul bought up Don Alvarado and the Padre, threatened to have them hanged too for aiding a soldier commit adultery, having an affair, deserting; all this bullshit that only Montoya would be willing to allow Raul to charge us with.

"Then he mentioned how _he_ had taken care of me. Looked after me and protected me during our years as runaways. And that I _owed _him. Which _was_ true. Whether I liked it or not…I _did_ owe my life to Raul.

"So I gave in. Not just for my family, but for the lives of the Don and the padre! They'd given us so much, I couldn't…!"

Juan stopped in mid-sentence. Lionel's exterior remained impassive, but he was still hooked word-for-word on the deserter's story.

"Aren't you…?" asked the confused Spaniard.

"I'm not here to judge," assured Lionel. "Carry on."

"Well…I knew Raul couldn't be trusted in any case. And the longer I stayed under Montoya's command, the more poisoned I felt. Carrying out his evil deeds after too long…just to keep my family alive…that was no way to live.

"Montoya HAD to go down. And then…I realised, I actually had the means of doing so."

* * *

><p>Lieutenant Williams then followed Juan to the bathroom. Like the rest of the house, it was damp, smelly and disgusting. Williams secretly swore that he saw a rat's tail disappear into the darkness at least twice. He quelled his disgust as the deserter locked the door, who then explained, "<em>No <em>_one __else_ knows about this, American. Everyone else thinks this was all destroyed in the fire."

Realising what he was asking, Lionel nodded, "I understand." Juan nodded back, believing the lieutenant. Turning to the alcove where the shattered mirror and wash basin were, Juan put his hands against the wall. It was always a struggle. He pushed hard and made the wall swivel all the way round. Lionel was surprised with what he saw on the other side of the alcove.

A sword in sheath mounted on hangers, a rack with a pistol and rifle, ammunition and a keg of powder...and in the centre of the wall hung a painting of Juan and Laura together, with a little note in the bottom right corner, stuck in-between the gap of the frame and canvas, reading…

_To Laura & Juan. Love always. Don Raphael Alvarado._

And underneath that, resting on a shelf at the bottom…was a chest.

"When I arrived Monterey, my 'insurers' gave us this place as part of the agreement," Juan revealed, taking a key out of his pocket for the chest's padlock. "After discovering that this place had been used by criminals for smuggling stolen goods here and there, I'm really glad that I bartered for this. There's secret trapdoors and hideaways all over the joint.

"But _this,_Williams…" he stressed to the American, unlocking the chest, "is the only thing you're getting let in on. So make it worth my time afterwards."

Juan lifted the lid up, and moved back to allow the Golden Boy to look what was inside.

It was documents. Copies upon copies of military files, tax reports, deeds to land, real insurance documents, written confessions and testimonies; it was an assortment of papers - real and forged - connecting Colonel Montoya, Captain Grisham and dozens more soldiers with all kinds of notorious crime. There was even a notebook containing details of every meeting he'd had with Montoya.

"I am no fool, Lieutenant," explained Juan, as the wide-eyed soldier studied and read what he could. "When it came to Colonel Montoya, I could take no chances. If he ever decided to move against me, I knew I would need a means of protecting myself. And because I'd gained a position where I could actually gain his trust…I knew all his secrets. And gathered evidence I could use against him if he forced my hand."

There was too much information contained within the chest for Williams to read here and now, but just glancing through all the papers and portfolios was enough to convince the Golden Lieutenant that the chest's contents were indeed genuine, and most importantly, would stand up in court.

Able to contain himself no longer, Lionel snapped closed the file he had in his hand, and stood up to get in the deserter's face.

"Juan, this is gold!" the soldier shouted angrily. "There's enough evidence in this chest to charge and execute Montoya, Grisham and half the Santa Helena army _on __the__ spot_! Everything from murdering and pillaging to littering & not returning library books! Why have you kept this secret for so long?"

"Because it cost _Don__ Horatio_ his life!" Juan yelled back furiously. Williams backed away a little, his memory seized by that name.

"Don Horatio…directly accused Colonel Montoya of his corruption. Actually confronted him with evidence, which became irrelevant when the governor goaded the Don into challenging him to a duel. A duel which Horatio lost, and his home & land ended up reverting to the state. Everything except his fortune, which had been hidden and protected by his friends. One of them being Raphael Alvarado."

Juan solemnly nodded and shed another tear. "_I_ was the one who gave Horatio the evidence he needed to convict Montoya. We made a deal. I wanted an honest life for myself and my family. I felt Horatio was the one who could actually take the governor down, and rid the army of its corruption.

"And all I did was get him killed. Montoya destroyed the documents, and began seizing Horatio's assets and estate. But Dons Alvarado, Miguel and Hidalgo managed to steal all his gold from under Montoya's nose…"

"I know all about that," reminded Williams respectfully. "I know everything about their pact. But I also know that Montoya never found out about it"

_Well,__ not__ until __long__ after __Alvarado__'__s __murder,__ anyway_, the Golden Boy thought, remembering his own investigations and Tessa telling him about the whole story. _Best __not __go __into__ that__ with __Juan._

"It doesn't matter," explained the Spanish deserter, his eyes drifting away. "Montoya was growing all the more suspicious of Alvarado…and wanted to move on to taking his land and fortune. I couldn't risk endangering Don Alvarado, not after everything he'd done for me and Laura. Not after playing a hand in Horatio's death. So I kept the evidence hidden, only using it when I had no choice.

"Then Raul squealed, deciding that he wasn't getting enough money from me. He told Montoya and Grisham about my wife and son. But then I told them about how Raul had actually been pillaging more than his wages. He'd been ransacking hauls and keeping them for himself instead of Montoya, as per the drill.

"We were arrested and brought before the colonel. And was considering hanging us both then and there. Unless…unless…"

Juan's voice started to break. The emotional pain was wracking his throat. The tears trailed, and the horses' gallops, the gunfire and Don Alvarado's dying breaths…flashed before Juan's crying eyes. Williams lowered his head in mourning, and then – not even looking at the deserter – concluded, "Unless you both agreed to kill Don Raphael Alvarado."

"Yes…"

A long silence now filled the room, overpowering the stench and degradation of the room. Juan's remorse and Williams' contempt for corruption had now reached new heights. Several more seconds of dark, uneasy tension passed before Lionel dared to ask, "Did you?"

"I _wasn__'__t_ the one who killed Don Alvarado."

Stepping towards the Spanish deserter, the American soldier nodded, "I _believe_ you. But I need to know who did."

Juan thought about the lieutenant's request, and then decided instead on finishing the story.

"After the murder…we covered up. I wrote and filed the 'official' report of what happened. Don Alvarado died in a riding accident. We found his body. All of the Don's workers became unemployed, and we seized all the riches we could find. I'd feared Montoya would seize the land soon after. But, you said you're here on behalf of Alvarado's _daughter_?"

"She's a personal friend of mine," explained Lionel. "She's long taken over his estate. And she _knows_ Montoya. She's witnessed his malice first-hand and has never believed his lies. It tortures her every night, Juan. The knowledge that her father's murderers still run free, _unpunished_. Even to this _day._"

Juan let it sink in and then continued, "I knew that even though we'd carried out Montoya's orders…he'd kill us anyway. That day we'd carried out the murder…I planned to desert that night.

"Laura was unsure, Julio had no idea what was going on. I argued that we had to flee, and that using the evidence, I could strike a deal with the Spanish court and bring Montoya to justice. Even if I did go to prison or face the noose…Laura and Julio would be safe.

"But before we could go, Raul showed up again. He was deserting as well, and he knew about all the papers I'd amassed. He insisted on giving him some as well, to increase the chances of bringing Montoya to justice. I didn't believe him and refused. He threatened my family there and then, and I defended them and vowed to kill him. We fought and I was just about to finish him off when Grisham showed up.

"I should've known Montoya had been on to me since the beginning. He was after the files and wanted all our heads; mine, Raul's, Laura's, Julio's…we were _all_ marked for death.

"One of Grisham's men killed my wife. Shot her right in the back. All the love and loyalty she gave me…I never deserved. She gave up her life to save me and our son.

"Raul got away, and I never ever saw him again. But I _knew_…that he was on his horse faraway, taking one last look at my burning home…the only safe haven I'd ever had. All my dreams and happiness, my real chance at a normal life…gone forever.

"We caught a glimpse of each other as we fled into the night, going our separate ways over hills far away. While Montoya's dogs barked over their bonfire."

Juan buried his face into his right palm. Williams showed respect by remaining quiet for a moment, before gently asking, "So…how did you fake your death?"

"I was fighting a soldier when Grisham attacked. The roof came down when the fire broke out. The man was buried underneath, I was stuck on the other side. Grisham screamed my name…I thought he'd believed I'd gone. When Julio and I actually fled out through the back door on a horse and cart."

"That's our stupid captain…" muttered Williams to himself. Speaking up again, the Golden Boy said, "The report that was filed said they'd retrieved your wife's body, and another that was burnt beyond recognition. That was presumed yours. No other bodies were recovered. I assume they must have thought the evidence had gone up in smoke, too."

"Well, most of it had," admitted Juan. "But I still had copies not even Montoya was aware of. With the cover of the darkness and all manners of distractions going on…we were long on our way to Monterey before they could even think of finding a trail.

"And that…was over eighteen months ago."

Juan closed the lid on the chest and sat on top of it. Folding his arms, he asked Williams, "I keep _all_ _this_ safe as _insurance_. If like you, Montoya and his filth found out I was still alive, I'd use this to make them just leave me alone. I've kept my head down since that night, cowering in the darkest corners of _this_ hellhole, because I finally realised…anytime I try to use it as a weapon…it _backfires_. It's robbed the lives of two good men…and my wife. None of which I deserved, and none of whom deserved to die.

"And even if I decided to use it _now_…I would surely be sentenced accordingly for the part I played…and my son – the _only_ thing I have left – would be all alone. And would surely fade just like everything else good and fleeting…that came into my life."

The downcast Williams again remained quiet momentarily. When he spoke, it was the first thing that came to mind.

"Juan…I'm so sorry. Please believe me when I say I know what you've gone through."

"Why?" demanded the Spanish deserter angrily. "Why should I believe _you_, American? With your clean uniform and your cushy rank? You come from a circle of evil, and I'm supposed to believe that you're here on behalf of an innocent child who wants justice? Do _you_ know what it's like to live life on the run? With everyone, even your own family out to kill for no motive other than _greed_?"

"YES, I DO, you self-centred asshole!" snapped the lieutenant just as angrily, grabbing Juan by the shirt and leering into his face. "How about my own _brother_? Will _that_ do?"

Juan was genuinely surprised by Williams' reaction. It was the first time all night the Golden Boy had raised his voice. And now Juan could see the spark of Lionel's damaged soul buried deep within.

"You _do_ know. Don't you?"

"_Yes_," sighed the American soldier bitterly, taking his hands of the Spaniard. "I _do_. Fleeing, changing my name, losing everything again and again, putting my family in harm's way…been there, done that. More times than I care to count.

"And the only reason why I keep going…is because I'm still needed. And I've felt like giving up. Because I thought there was too much evil to stand against…but for me it wasn't soldiers. It was people who wore _masks_."

Juan didn't understand where Lionel was coming from, but was nonetheless intrigued as he explained, "I thought all those who hid behind masks were ruthless. Until I met the exception to the rule."

The Golden Lieutenant smiled fondly as he thought back to the Queen of Swords saving his daughter's life from Pablo.

"We've been friends ever since. But my point is this, Juan. I'm not just here to help Tessa Alvarado, I'm here to help _you_. I'm here to help _your__ son_, and I'm here to help all of Santa Helena. Montoya is _still_ in power and he's _still_ oppressing the people just like he did to you and the Alvarado family, and he will _never_ stop unless _he _is stopped. _Once__ and __for __all_."

"That is _your_ problem, Williams. I'm only protecting Julio. I will not risk endangering him anymore than I…"

"Juan, _wake __up_! You're _already_ endangering him! You nearly got killed tonight over _money_! Then Julio would've been without his father, with only a mad attack dog to keep him safe on the _streets_! What in the world makes you think you're better off here in Monterey than you were in Santa Helena?"

The words hit the deserter _hard_. The shock making the realisation sink in.

"You say you want the _best_ for him," persisted Lionel, "but _this_? Hiding in a large _toilet_? Stopping him from going outside and shielding him from the world? Home-schooling and a pet are all well and good, but Julio deserves a _proper_ life! A kid as courageous as that should be in _school_ and be playing with _other__ children_! You said you didn't deserve to be married and have help from Dons! Well, you _definitely__ didn__'__t_ if you carry on doing what you're doing to Julio! _He_ certainly doesn't deserve being _condemned_ to this misery! You _both_ deserve _better_!"

Juan looked all around him. Then he shoved past Williams and stepped back into the 'living room', before heading down into the cellar below with a lit candle. Lionel followed him, disgusted at water dripping through the ceiling and a few rats scurrying around. Toro had been asleep, but ever-alert and protective of Julio, he shot his head up at the first sign of trouble. When he saw Juan and Williams enter, the Doberman stood down and turned his attention back to the rats, making sure they minded their own business.

Juan knelt down to look at his son, fast asleep on the floor in a large sack, using a pile of straw for a pillow. Julio didn't look unhappy as he dreamt. Instead, he just looked peaceful. Which to Juan and Williams…was nothing short of remarkable.

Julio's father continued to weep, accepting that the Golden Lieutenant was right. Juan _was_ ruining him. And if he wasn't careful…Julio would end up like his dad. Or worse…Raul.

"I meant what I said, Juan," assured Williams in a gentle whisper. "I'm in favour with the Spanish Court. I know the Ambassador. If I told them how Don Alvarado actually died, we would have enough evidence to take his killers to trial. With a written confession, your testimony and a chest full of documents linking Montoya to every crime known to man…we'd purge Santa Helena of its corruption _completely_."

"And the Royal Court would also hang _me_ for the part _I_ played," the Spaniard pointed out, equally careful not to wake his son. "As well as withholding state evidence for so long. Even if they don't hang Julio, he'll be condemned to death with no one to look after him."

"I won't let _anything_ happen to him," the soldier vowed. "Or _you_. I'll speak on your behalf. The Royal Court will _understand_ what you did, _why_ you did what you _had__ to_, ever since you were a _child_. I know Raul was a monster, but he's a monster that's _long__ dead,_ rotting in hell where he belongs. He can't hurt you or anyone else _anymore_. But the _real_ monsters – Montoya & Grisham – are still out there, still repeating the same damn cycle over and over again, and all that will do is turn out more victims like you, me, our families and friends…and Senorita Tessa Alvarado."

Juan felt Williams' hand touch his shoulder, in support and consolation.

"It _has_ to stop, Juan. _All_ of it."

"How did Raul die? Tell me."

Lionel struggled with what to tell Juan. He deserved the truth, but Lionel couldn't tell him that without compromising Tessa's secret. Tessa had told Lionel that after killing Raul, she and Marta had thrown his body over the cliff where they'd fought. It had later washed up on the beach and found by soldiers, and Colonel Montoya 'officially' filed that Raul had been found and shot dead upon sight for his desertion and blackmail. The Governor had been more interested in using him as a reminder to any future deserters, rather than investigate the cause of his death.

Eventually, Lionel decided on, "Raul tried to blackmail Tessa Alvarado. She was willing to pay for the identity of her father's killers. Raul tried to extort more and then attempted to kill her when she refused.

"The Queen of Swords was in the area and killed Raul whilst defending the senorita."

"The folk hero of Santa Helena?" asked Juan in disbelief.

"That's what happened."

"So Raul died a bully and a coward. _That_ I believe."

"Do you believe _everything __else_ I've said and done tonight?"

The two men intently looked each other eye-to-eye. Juan mulled it all over one more time; Lionel's help in resolving his debts, dealing with those 'tax-collectors', his request for help, Senorita Alvarado, the state he and Julio were in, all of the soldier's arguments…

And that he _had_ saved his life.

"If I refuse to cooperate with you…" asked Juan, "are you going to just kill me and take the chest from upstairs?"

"No," said Williams. "That's not how I work. I've either earned your trust or I haven't. But I have to _insist_ that you make a decision for your son."

Juan looked again at his eight-year-old boy, saying, "I _had_ intended to turn myself in after we were _all_ safe. I knew that Laura would survive without me, and in her hands, Julio would grow up safe and become the man he deserves to be. I'm still willing to testify against Montoya even now. I can take whatever happens to me, but I can't risk losing Julio to anything.

"Regardless of what the Spanish Court decides for me, promise me that at least _my__ son_ will be safe, that _no__ harm_ will befall him, and that he'll receive the life that he deserves…and I _will _do what you say, Lieutenant."

"You have my word," saluted Williams, standing to attention. "Now…I need a written confession and I _need_ to know. _Who_ – killed – Don – Raphael – Alvarado?"

* * *

><p>Returning to the bathroom, they locked up all papers back in the chest, and rotated the wall back round to keep it hidden. With Toro still protecting the house and Julio, Lieutenant Williams and Juan left and regrouped at the stables. All was now quiet in Monterey and for now, crime and corruption had gone to sleep. In the safe shadows, Juan handed the Golden Boy an envelope and a file containing some papers from the chest, which Williams would need to submit to the Royal Court.<p>

When Juan decided to give Williams the bag of gold back to him, the Lieutenant shook his head. "No. You keep it, you upheld your end of the deal. Besides, Sixty reales. You deserve it more than me. Consider it a token of _my _trust. I'll be in touch."

Juan looked at the bulging bag of gold in his hands. Another gift from the kindest of strangers.

"Lieutenant…" he called to the departing soldier, "gracias."

Williams stopped for a moment, looked over his shoulder and nodded back, "Gracias." And then the two kindred spirits went their own ways into the night.

* * *

><p>Three days later…<p>

"Maria!" groaned Vera impatiently. "Are you coming out from behind that screen or not?"

The frustrated Mrs Williams sighed and huffed, "You mean I actually have _a __choice?_"

"Honestly, Maria!" said Senorita Alvarado, who had lost her patience. "You're being most childish! This is really not ladylike!"

"Alright, alright! I'm coming!"

In the main living room of the Alvarado Hacienda, Maria came out from behind the screen in a really expensive red and black dress, with butterfly sleeves, diamond studded belt, red high heel shoes and black arm warmers made of lace. She was also wearing a beautiful tiara, complete with her mother's necklace.

"Oh, Maria, you look marvellous!" swooned Tessa, coming over to the American's side and dragging her over to the mirror.

"You _owe_ me for this, Alvarado," whispered Maria through wide smiling teeth, as she looked at herself in the mirror. Despite her reluctance, Maria was secretly admitting to herself that the dress _was_ gorgeous, and she looked fantastic wearing it.

"See?" smiled Vera. "I _told_ you you'd look more spectacular in these dresses!"

"And more uncomfortable! It could really do without the corset, it's far too tight! It's no wonder most of the women in Madrid drop like flies! How on Earth can you…?"

"Look," said Senora Hidalgo crossly, with Tessa trying hard not to laugh, "the ball is only two weeks away, and it's very important that you…"

"It's important for me to play dress-up when I've got housework to do and helping Lucia Garcia for market day tomorrow?"

"Play dress-up?" Don Gaspar's wife was indignant. "All the girls in Santa Helena…"

"Vera, these dresses cost from twenty to forty reales!" protested Maria. "_Each!_ For me and Lionel, you're talking about wiping out our life savings!"

"Come now, Maria," reasoned the aristocrat, adamantly. "Ever since his promotion, you've come into more money! You're _moving __up _in the world! You need to _look_ the part. And after that _horrible_ business with that awful Conrad, you deserve something to help you feel better. Besides, Tessa and I have no problem loaning you money. Do we, Tessa?"

"Of _course_ not, Vera," agreed Tessa with her false demeanour. "Look, Maria, I know you've _never_ known life in the aristocracy…" She quickly winked at Maria whilst speaking, "but there's no reason to be nervous of…"

"Tessa, I'm _not_ nervous," denied the soldier's wife, remembering to be careful with what she said in front of Vera. "It's just…having lived a middle-class lifestyle for so long…I've gotten used to…"

A confused Vera cocked her head at Maria, who quickly rephrased her words to, "I meant all this luxury, this fine living, these customs and orders. Is it all that necessary? Really?"

"You're not making any sense at all," groaned the senora. "You're in _favour_ with the aristocracy and you're _best__ friends_ are among Santa Helena's elite! When you're not doing housework or raising Theresa, you're helping the people and socialising with us and Marta! So you might as well be an aristocrat given your status! You _act_ like this is where you belong, Maria! So why deny who you are?"

Before Maria could think of an answer, Marta came into the living room.

"Senorita, forgive my intrusion," the gypsy servant apologised. "But you have a visitor. He says it's very important."

"Marta!" exclaimed a 'distressed' Tessa, keeping up appearances. "I gave strict instructions that we weren't to be disturbed! Whoever it is that thinks they…!"

Lieutenant Williams entered the room, removing his hat and saluting the senorita. A smile instantly spread across Maria's face and she walked up to her husband to throw her arms round him and kiss him on the cheek.

"Honey! You're home! When did you get back?"

"I arrived back in Santa Helena about three hours ago. Missed you, darling," smiled Lionel kissing his wife, then whispering in her ear, "I've just come over from the colonel's office after reporting about Monterey. Sorry, Maria, but something's come up. I need you to play along right now. I've told Marta."

Maria didn't understand but did as her husband asked nonetheless. He turned to greet Senora Hidalgo before explaining to Tessa in a solemn voice, "Senorita Alvarado, I _must_ speak with you. In private."

"Lieutenant, this is an unwarranted intrusion! I have important matters that…!"

"IT'S URGENT!" snapped Lionel, getting right into the senorita's face. Tessa's mask started to crumble. No longer was she the vain rich girl with petty interests, and the seriousness of the Queen started to break through. Marta, having already been told by Lieutenant Williams what was going on, could only look at Tessa with a mother's eyes. She wanted to be here to give her support over what was going to change her life forever.

And the fact that she couldn't be…was almost as painful as what Tessa's reaction would doubtless be.

Maria looked to Marta, then at Tessa, and then decided to tell Vera that on second thought, she was right and that the new dresses would be worth having. Maria and Marta quickly led Senora Hidalgo out of the room (gathering up the dresses) to leave Tessa and the Golden Boy alone.

"Lionel…" Tessa quietly asked, "what's going on?"

Taking the envelope out of his jacket, he handed it to her. "You _really_ need to read this."

"What _is_ it?"

"It _speaks_ for _itself_."

Tessa glanced her eyes at Williams then took the envelope from his hand, unfolded the paper inside and began to read it.

* * *

><p><em>I, Corporal Juan, of the Spanish Army forces situated in Santa Helena, California, hereby confess my participation in the murder of Don Raphael Alvarado on the 5th day of January in 1817.<em>

_This conspiracy was masterminded by the military governor of Santa Helena, Colonel Luis Montoya, with the full intent of seizing Don Alvarado's fortune and entire estate. The Colonel ordered a party of soldiers to hunt down Senor Raphael during his routine ride through the countryside._

_The operation was personally headed by Capitan Marcus Grisham, who lead Sergeant Hernandez, Corporal Martin, myself and Private Raul into the country to pursue the Don. After chasing Alvarado on horseback, Capitan Grisham shot the Don in the back of the head, his body falling off his horse and trampled on. On Colonel Montoya's orders, I filed a false report detailing that Raphael Alvarado had died in a horse riding accident._

_With this confession, I submit all other corroborating evidence for the Spanish Court, and hereby surrender myself to the law. I await and accept whatever charge and sentence will befall me._

_Signed,_

_Corporal Juan, 24th October 1818_

* * *

><p>Silence fell over the room.<p>

Then Tessa exhaled a painful breath. And wept.

"Is…is…" The confession shook in her trembling hand. Her eyes were locked dead on the handwritten paper, unable to accept it. After so very long.

"Is this _genuine?_"

"I have every reason to believe it is," nodded Williams, trying to be as comforting as he could. Tessa's eyes then switched to the Golden Lieutenant showing her a folder. He took out the contents and laid them out on the table for the senorita to see, explaining as he narrated.

"Records confirm Corporal Juan's existence and enrolment under Montoya's command. He was believed to have perished in a fire that took place on the _exact __same__ date_ that your father died. The _exact __same __date_ that Raul deserted. The location, the soldiers present, the date, the signatures at the bottom of the falsified report and this confession; it _all __ties __up_.

"Juan was _coerced _into doctoring the events, to protect his family, whose existence was also recorded. He has a _trunk_ full of documents that can not only prove Montoya's forgery and corruption, but also connect him to almost all the crime in Santa Helena."

Tessa couldn't stop crying as she looked back at Lionel who placed his hands on her shoulders to console the senorita, further revealing, "It's as you once suspected, kid. Montoya was behind your father's demise, and Grisham was the one who pulled the trigger. And now thanks to Juan, we can _finally_ prove it!"

Lieutenant Williams then smiled excitedly, "We've _got__ them_, Tessa! We've _FINALLY_ got them!"

Unable to contain herself any longer, Tessa hugged Lionel tightly and broke down, sobbing, "Thank you, Lionel! Thank you!"


	2. Caught in the Crossfire

_Disclaimer: Queen of Swords was created by Fireworks Entertainment, and is owned by ContentFilm. This story is NOT affiliated with the rights holders or the show's original creators. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made. This story is for entertainment purposes only._

_The author would like to thank Robert Vincent for all his valuable support and input._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15: Caught in the Crossfire<strong>

It was moments like this that made Marcus Grisham's life worthwhile.

The last few days had mostly been quiet and boring. Just bagging a few peasants for stealing food, giving people a very violent reminder never to slip behind on their taxes _again_…but despite the mundane routines, the corrupt captain had found it all relaxing.

For some nice changes, Montoya hadn't been barking orders at him, Grisham's men had performed their duties surprisingly well, even Lieutenant Williams, Doctor Helm and the Queen of Swords had not only given him no trouble whatsoever…they'd all stayed completely out of his way.

For the first time in months, Marcus felt happy. Life was _sweet_. In fact, he'd go so far as to say it was just the way it was before the Queen emerged in Santa Helena. No problems, all his demons and ghosts left behind him in the War of 1812, Krane the Hanged Man dead for _certain_ this time…

And an evening of ecstasy with the Don's wife.

In the captain's quarters, Grisham and Vera (wearing nothing but their underclothes) were locked in passionate embrace on the mattress. Bed sheets were all over the floor, Grisham's uniform was draped over the nearest chair, and Vera's dress hung from the open wardrobe door. It was a sight that was no different than any other night the two secretly shared behind Don Hidalgo's back.

And it's what they both loved more than anything else in the world.

After their lips and bodies separated, the lovers lay on the bed, gazing at one another, with Grisham smiling, "This is the life, huh, babe?"

"Sensational as always, my captain," sighed Vera happily. "Ooohh…I wish life was like this forever."

"What's to say it won't be? The Queen's vanished, Helm and Williams have crawled back under their rocks, even Montoya's backed off. It's just like it _used_ to be."

"Oh, I'm so happy for you, Marcus. I'm really looking forward to the ball. I'm glad Maria came round in the end over those dresses. With Tessa, we'll all be so dazzling. It's going to be so perfect."

_Yeah, _grinned an excited Grisham, thinking secretly, _Three of the hottest ladies in all San. Helena. I'll hit the jackpot!_

"Get used to the good life, Vera," smiled the corrupt captain, drawing her closer to kiss her once again. "No more problems, no more worries…and nothing whatsoever to come back and bite us in the…"

Their bliss was interrupted by the sound of a rock being thrown through the window. The smashing glass made Vera shriek, and Grisham scramble off the bed for his pistol.

"What the hell? Guards! Guards!" he yelled angrily as he ran for the door. Opening it, Grisham looked out to see who had dared to violate his home. There was no one around, not even a dust trail or the sounds of a horse's gallop.

_It's her, _seethed Marcus in frustration. _Knew it was too good to be true!_ Turning to the unfaithful senora, he said, "Vera, get dressed! We need to move!"

"Marcus, there's a note attached to this!" explained Senora Hidalgo, removing a piece of paper that had been bound to the rock. She handed the rock to Grisham who just threw it to one side as Vera unfolded the note. Her confused eyes focused on the bold letters as she read out loud to her lover two simple, yet ominous words.

"'I – KNOW.'"

Grisham snatched the paper out of Vera's hands to read the message himself.

_I – KNOW._

"Know what?" asked Vera, growing afraid. "Marcus, what does it mean?"

Grisham looked up from the note. He didn't know _exactly _what it meant, _which one_ of the captain's endless list of sins the messenger was referring to. But he knew one thing.

_It can't be her, _the American denied. _Vengeance isn't her style._

"Vera, get dressed!" Grisham ordered again as he reached for his pants and shirt. "Then get over to Montoya's office! Move, now!"

Soon dressed and armed, the captain shouted again for his men as he headed outside.

Only to be greeted by a vicious kick to the face that sent him back into the room. Grisham dropped his sword, yet still held onto his pistol. The soldier got his free hand up to nurse his stinging nose, and could only watch as the vicious whip ensnared his firearm and tore it out of his grasp. Vera watched in horror as the Queen, angrier and more savage than she had ever been in her life, burst into the room, shutting the door behind her and charging towards the shocked Captain, dagger held up high and screaming in rage.

"GRISHAMMMM!"

* * *

><p><em>Four days ago…<em>

_GRISHAM…_

_Ever since day one, it had been Grisham._

_Carlos, manservant of her father. Hard-working, loyal friend. Good honest man who was forced into banditry to feed his family._

_Attempts to help him squandered. Arrested, jailed, tied and humiliated in public and ultimately executed. Shattering his family, leaving behind a mourning widow in Rubina and an angry son in Fernando._

_GRISHAM…_

_He'd escorted Tessa to the ruins of her beautiful hacienda and garden, leaving her in tears as he smiled and shrugged. Then he'd taken one of her workers, Enrique, away from his sick, dying wife during the fever, forced him into the army against his will. Then ultimately killed him, and threatened another widow he'd made upon ruining her life. Just as part of his scheme to succeed Montoya as governor._

_GRISHAM._

_Carlotta, the Counterfeit Queen. A woman who had started out framing the real Queen for her own gain. But one who had ultimately chosen the path to redemption…only for it to be cruelly snatched away by the captain, and his trademark bullet in the back._

_GRISHAM!_

_Antonio. The love of Tessa Alvarado's life, Grisham's superior in everyway. A penniless man who was hired to kill the Queen of Swords and unearthed the truth. A man who ultimately sacrificed himself to protect the woman he loved. Shot dead off his horse…by Marcus Grisham._

_GRISHAM!_

_And now…the source of all Tessa's pain. The death of her father, Don Raphael Alvarado, the man she loved more than any other…ripped from her heart. Forever._

_IT WAS GRISHAM!_

_Tessa didn't care that Montoya was the one who had always been pulling Grisham's leash. It had been Grisham who had been the savage, disgusting carnivore who caused all of her pain…and revelled in it. Just like all the other lives he'd ruined._

_Raul's lies and taunts over her father's murder repeated themselves over and over in the senorita's mind. He'd known it was Grisham. He was there and had chosen to torment the Queen by not telling her, REVELLING in it up until the moment she'd gutted him._

_And Tessa remembered the time when her Uncle Alejandro had come to California to find the killer. Don Ricardo, a man who had been entrusted with Santa Helena's water rights by her father. A good man with the courage to oppose Montoya, set up into a duel to the death against Tessa's vengeful uncle. A duel that nearly cost the life of an innocent man, and the life of Tessa's only family left._

_The pain of Don Alejandro's angry rejection of Tessa upon her defence of Ricardo, that SMIRK on Grisham's face when he presented that false evidence to frame Ricardo…_

_WAIT A MINUTE…Tessa had realised. Those bandits on the hill overlooking Ricardo's home. THE bandit that shot Ricardo and nearly killed Uncle Alejandro…the one I fought and got away…_

_That was Grisham! Montoya had sent him to kill both of them! So no one would question Father's death again and that Montoya would get the water rights!_

"**Tessa?"**

_Kami's words then resurfaced. The samurai had been angry, alone and vengeful over the loss of her master. Tessa had tried to dissuade her and console her, even telling her about her father._

_But all Kami could ask was, "So you just let his killers run FREE?"_

"_Don't judge me." Tessa had angrily retaliated. "You don't know ANYTHING about me."_

"**Tessa?"**

"_It was a serious question." Kami had then remarked, "You follow the way of a mouse. I follow the way of the dragon."_

_After they'd gained justice for her master, Kami had later apologised to the Queen for her angry, insulting comments at Tessa Alvarado. And although she'd accepted and they'd parted as friends, Tessa deep down felt that the Japanese samurai had touched upon a truth._

_KAMI WAS RIGHT. I AM A MOUSE. I LET FATHER'S KILLER RUN FREE WHEN I COULD'VE…SHOULD'VE AVENGED HIM MUCH SOONER._

"**Tessa, are you alright?"**

_GRISHAM KILLED ANTONIO AND WHAT DID I DO? I WILLINGLY FORGOT AND WHEN I SHOULD'VE KILLED HIM BACK IN THE MINE FOR IT, WHAT DID I DO? I SMILED, LAUGHED AND BACKED OFF! JUST AS I'VE ALWAYS DONE, EVEN AFTER ALL THOSE PEOPLE HE'S KILLED. ALL MY FRIENDS, ALL MY FAMILY!_

_GRISHAM! GRISHAM! GRISHAM! GRISHAM! GRISHAM! GRISHAMMMMM!_

"**Tessa? Tessa?"**

* * *

><p><em>The vengeful rages in Tessa's mind ceased echoing. Swept away by Marta's gentle hand on her shoulder. Tessa's mind snapped back to the living room in candlelight. It was night-time, she was sat at the table, being comforted by the concerned Gypsy. All the evidence was on the table, with Lionel stopping to look at the senorita.<em>

"_Tessa…?" asked Lieutenant Williams. "Do you want to take a break?"_

"_Maybe we should continue going over the details tomorrow," suggested Marta. "It's been a big day and it's late. There's still…"_

"_I want to meet him," decided Tessa, facing Lionel._

_The Golden Lieutenant stared at his friend for a moment before realising, "You mean Juan?"_

"_Yes. I want to meet him."_

_Lionel exchanged an anxious glance with Marta, who gently advised her mistress, "Tessa, that's not a wise course of action. He…"_

"_I said I want to meet him," she declared adamantly._

"_I'd really rather you didn't," insisted Lionel, soothingly. "He's agreed to help, but the situation has got to be handled delicately if we're going to make the case successful. Juan's had it rough as it is, meeting with you at this stage could…"_

"_One of my father's killers has 'had it rough'?" Tessa raised an eyebrow at Lionel, then cynically continued, "I suppose that makes all the difference."_

"_Tessa, please. Juan isn't like Raul. He's a widower with a son. A victim that your FATHER tried to help, and was ultimately blackmailed into doing Montoya's bidding. He feels guilt, pain and suffering just as much as ANY OF US."_

_Tessa simply stared back._

"_Juan's rights have to be respected if he's going to help us," continued Williams. "He's under enough pressure already. Put too much upon him and he could either runaway or worse. And it's not just the danger of sending Juan over the edge. By the time we get to the trial, it's going to be a circus. All of Spain and California are going to be watching the prosecution of San. Helena's governor AND the captain of the guard with eagle-eyes. Slip-up and someone may put two-and-two together about YOU, kid. We can't afford to take ANY chances."_

_Senorita Alvarado was angrily silent. Sensing how hard it was for her, Lionel stood up out of his seat and came over to the Spaniard to place his hand on her shoulder._

"_I can pass messages along to Juan if you wish," soothed Williams. "So long as they're brief and do nothing to unsettle him."_

"_So what happens now?" asked Marta, taking the moment to swiftly change the matter._

"_You've seen all the evidence," explained the American, gathering Juan's confession and all other corroborating evidence off the table back into the binder. "We have enough to take both Montoya and Grisham to court, and to convict them. But we can't do ANYTHING to tip them off. I'll write the official request for trial when I get home. I'm sure Ambassador Enriquez will be willing to review the case and provide authorisation for arrest once all testimony and evidence have been submitted._

"_Because of standard procedures and channels, it could take up to two weeks before the Spanish Court will grant me the power to arrest my superiors. And God knows how long before an actual date for the trial is set."_

"_Quite the circus, indeed," Marta grimly remarked._

"_Charging and convicting a high-profile military governor AND his second-in-command for murder and corruption?" asked Lionel rhetorically. "YEAH…quite the circus. I've discussed all of this with Juan and he's agreed to be placed in protective custody upon his surrender. His son will be safeguarded and I'll appeal to the Spanish Court when negotiating a deal for them both._

"_Needless to say, I'll need statements from both of you nearer the time, and testimony on actual court dates."_

"_We understand."_

"_We can't arouse ANY suspicion," reminded Williams, stressing the importance. "If Montoya gets onto us, we're as good as finished. ONLY Maria and Robert can know what we're doing, and NO ONE ELSE. Life goes on as normal, this conversation never happened."_

"_And then?" asked Tessa with a faraway look in her eyes._

"_Then, if all goes well…good riddance to Montoya and Grisham. And we all live happily after."_

"_That may be wishful thinking, Lieutenant," warned Marta gravely._

"_Perhaps. But after everything we've all been through…I think it's about damn time we had some happiness."_

_Tessa looked up to Lionel and then got up out of her chair to give him another hug._

"_Thank you, old man," said the tired senorita._

"_Get some sleep, kid," recommended the soldier. "I think we could all do with it."_

_Marta and Lionel exchanged goodbyes and the servant escorted the soldier on the way out, leaving Tessa all alone._

_Uncharacteristically silent and brooding._

_The aristocrat should've been feeling happiness. At long last, her father's killers had been found and would FINALLY face justice for their heinous crimes. Her destiny as the Queen of Swords would be fulfilled, and maybe she could retire. Settle down at long last and marry Robert Helm._

_Tessa should've been thinking about all those lives Montoya and Grisham had manipulated, oppressed, ruined and destroyed. Lives who would finally be avenged. She should've been thinking about her uncle, writing to him to let him know again how much she loved him. How at long last Don Alvarado could rest in peace and that everything would now be okay and that they could both move on._

_But all Tessa could think about…was one man. The man who had caused her more pain than anyone or anything else. The man she had let live for FAR TOO LONG._

_With a vengeful sneer, and tears flowing from her eyes, Tessa Alvarado screamed his name again._

_This time out loud._

"_GRISSHHAAAAMMMMMMM!"_

* * *

><p>Hours ago…<p>

Marta could still remember Tessa's uncharacteristic screams.

The screams of _rage_.

Long after the Gypsy had waved Lionel goodbye, she'd slowly come back inside only to hear her surrogate daughter shout out Grisham's name. Then the sound of the vase smashing. Marta had ran into the living room to see Tessa crying, turning the table over, throwing cushions across the room; all the while screaming the name of her father's murderer over and over.

When Tessa had picked up a sword, Marta begged her mistress to stop, grabbing her arm and trying to prise it out of her grasp. Tessa shouted at Marta to let go of her, as she struggled and soon succumbed to her tears. Her knees trembled and fell, and her warrior's arms surrendered, her rapier dropping on the floor with a daunting 'clang'.

Once again, Marta had had to be more than a loyal servant and friend on that night. She'd had to be Tessa's mother, hugging her, _comforting_ her as the senorita cried in pain, still missing her father.

The girl was seven-years-old. A problem child smashing things up left, right and centre. Marta had had to carry the burden of raising Tessa with her three cousins, and taming the little savage. The Gypsy had no regrets whatsoever about the task appointed to her. Marta had owed Raphael Alvarado her life and the moment she first saw Tessa…it was like loving her own daughter.

Tessa's tantrums had both frightened and angered Marta when she was growing up. When Tessa outgrew her fits, the proud Gypsy thought that would be the end of it. But Tessa's rage a few nights ago had terrified Marta more than anything else the girl had done, even as the Queen. Sitting at the table with a glass of wine, Marta had finished shuffling the cards, getting ready to draw the first one.

Cold, alone and fearful, Marta didn't know what scared her more. The fact that Tessa had every reason to just lose control…or that she herself had guided the senorita to this destiny. A destiny to avenge her father on his killer; a smug, self-satisfied, butchering, misogynistic pig! One who had hurt her emotionally and physically too many times. It was a path full of blood and suffering. And Marta felt responsible.

_I've failed her,_ the Gypsy sadly wept. _I wanted to calm her. Turn her from a little monster into a remarkable lady. I thought that's why letting Tessa go to Senor Torres would help her. Channel that anger into something more constructive. And now, I may have let her become a vengeful monster with skill._

_She's doing this all for you, Don Alvarado. She can't move on until you've both found peace. Please, Don Alvarado. After everything I've done for you both…please watch over Tessa. She needs you now more than ever._

Marta then drew the first card.

"Justice. A victory has already been gained."

Curious, the Gypsy drew the second card.

"The Chariot. Tessa's long grown into her warrior's role. Her destiny _will_ be fulfilled."

Card number three.

"The Lovers?" Marta asked herself quietly. "Which Lovers? Tessa and Robert? Lionel and Maria?"

Looking up in growing horror, the Gypsy fearfully whispered to herself, "Grisham and Vera?"

Casting her eyes back down to the deck, Marta exhaled anxiously, then drew the final card to place on the table. Marta's eyes went wide in horror.

It was the card of _Death_.

Marta looked in the direction of Tessa's bedroom. Her conversation with Robert earlier on in the afternoon had left her in a foul mood instead of helping, and she'd angrily retired to bed. Uncharacteristically earlier than normal.

And it soon became apparent why Tessa might have done so.

"Oh, no…" Marta sat up, fearing for the worst as she then ran to the master bedroom. "Tessa! Tessa!"

Marta entered the room to discover open windows, curtains blowing, and a bed that hadn't been slept in.

Tessa was gone.

* * *

><p>Caught completely off-guard by the uncharacteristic savagery, Grisham fell back onto the bed as the Queen dived on top of him, her left hand round his throat and her right holding the dagger up high. Vera screamed in horror while the vigilante screamed in rage. Grisham moved his head, barely missing the blade as it stabbed pillow. He then retaliated with a vicious punch across the masked Tessa's face, knocking her off him to the floor.<p>

"No more games, huh?" snarled the captain, grabbing her long, black hair and yanking her head up off the floor. "Fine by…!"

If Grisham had bothered to pay attention, he'd have noticed the Avenging Angel grabbing the chair she'd knocked over. The captain's punch had hurt hard, but _this_ would hurt him even more. Twisting her body, the screaming Tessa stood up and turned, smashing the chair right across his face.

Unable to stand anymore, Vera picked up an empty bottle and ran at the Queen. She just merely swatted her aside, tripping her up as she turned back to Grisham. Undeterred, Vera got back up and grabbed the vigilante's hair, shouting, "Stop it! Leave him alone! Why are you doing this?"

"BACK OFF, VERA!" yelled the masked Tessa, turning round and punching Vera right in the face, knocking her out cold. The Queen didn't even care as her _own friend _succumbed to darkness, her head cracking against the nearest dresser while she fell.

_Treacherous cow_, sneered Tessa. _You betrayed a good man who loves you and is loyal to you…for sex with this murdering scum? You deserve to burn in hell like he does!_

Turning back to Captain Grisham, the Queen of Swords picked up her dagger and kicked him over onto his back. His face had been badly bruised, and the side of his head had been busted wide open where the chair had struck. Grisham was barely conscious, and the grimace on his face couldn't be any more pained.

"No one left to hide behind, Grisham," the Queen coldly said, kneeling down to finish it. "No guards to save you, I've already seen to that. No more running, no more reprieves. Justice is _finally here_, you son of a bitch!"

* * *

><p>Both Lionel and Maria Williams were tired. But <em>happily<em> tired. The last few days had been _another_ most welcome – most _needed_ - respite. There would be hard days ahead of them all, particularly over the impending trial. But the first step had already been taken. Williams had managed to get word back to Spain with Montoya none the wiser. All they could do now was wait for word from Ambassador Enriquez.

Nights like this made Williams appreciate his wife and daughter all the more. Just a quiet evening, with Lionel playing with Theresa and telling her more stories. Then a nice family meal of steak and vegetables, Theresa going to bed, before the parents opted for an early night themselves.

So they could indulge in their passion for each other. Idle flirting, followed by undressing in front of the other, then finally kissing and embracing in ecstasy. It was like being back in America. Lionel and Maria laughing and happy in their young love, which had bloomed and survived for over a decade.

In bed together, the partners kissed again and smiled warmly at each other. Maria caressed Lionel's cheek, gazing into his eyes before speaking, "Do you remember the very first time we…?"

"Mmm-hmm…" nodded Mr Williams, grinning. "Your Dad was hosting a party, making speeches, you got bored and dragged me away while I was on duty, took me to the stables and we…"

"Mmm-hmm," giggled Maria. Sighing again, she then said, "You're still that wild stallion."

"And you're still drop dead gorgeous."

"I _know_," said Maria modestly, cheekily batting her eyelashes before smiling, "Thank you." She then lay her head back down on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling as she asked, "Those dresses _were_ superb, I suppose. Are you sure you didn't mind…?"

"Nah," said Lionel. "We're moving up in the world. The raise that came with my promotion booted us into a much more financially stable position, and with _yet another_ ball coming up…"

"Suppose so," sighed Maria.

"You _were_ born into aristocracy, sweetheart. If you ever went back, it'd be much different. _Tessa's_ proved that."

"I know. Say, how is she?"

"Holding up. As always. Tough kid. Don't know how the hell she manages it. Oh, God…I just pray that…"

"Lionel…" shushed Maria, soothingly, "thought we agreed not to talk about work tonight, okay?"

"Sorry, Maria."

"It's hard enough prying that damn journal out of your hands. You throw too much of your soul into that thing sometimes."

"It helps me _cope_," explained the Golden Lieutenant.

"I know. Lionel…do you think that maybe…when things have settled down _completely_…we might…?"

The soldier recognised the look his wife was giving him.

"You've been thinking about it, too?"

"I've also been thinking about _Theresa_. I know she's happy enough at school, she has friends and she likes doing cards with Marta, but she gets so bored and lonely when she's at _home_. I'm thinking that maybe if Theresa had a brother or a sister to play with, she'd…"

"_LIEUTENANT WILLIAMS!"_

The banging was so loud that it threatened to knock the front door of its hinges. Lionel and Maria shared an angry look before the annoyed soldier reluctantly got out of bed to put some pants on. Lionel then left to answer the door, all the while yelling at the visitor to cease the relentless hammering before they woke up Theresa.

He was surprised to see not one of Montoya's lackeys, but instead…

"Tomas?" asked the surprised Golden Boy. The rookie soldier, who had recently been promoted to corporal, saluted his mentor and superior.

"Lieutenant Williams, we have an emergency! Several of our men were found hogtied and barely conscious!"

"Have you notified Captain Grisham?"

"We can't find him, sir!"

Lionel's wide eyes looked up. The horror making the realisation hit him even harder.

"Oh, no…"

* * *

><p><em>Earlier today…<em>

_Tessa looked at herself in the mirror. Half-Queen, she'd just put her undershirt on. Turning back to the blouse, bodice, waist-scarf, gloves and mask that were still on the bed, Tessa sighed angrily. She'd laid low for the last few days ever since finally learning the truth about Grisham and Montoya, letting her anger simmer and boil as she wondered just what she was going to do with the knowledge she'd fought so hard to uncover._

_Her complete breakdown just a few days ago still burned, as did Marta's attempts to console her. Grabbing a brush, Tessa combed her hair, all the while thinking about what she was going to do. Whether she should do it, given that she wasn't in the right frame of mind for any adventuring whatsoever._

_But Tessa just couldn't stop thinking about it. About Marta's advice, Doctor Helm's morals, Lieutenant Williams' philosophies, Kami's remarks, Raul's lies…_

_Grisham…and all the pain he'd caused her._

"_Senorita…" Marta respectfully informed her mistress, as she came into the master bedroom._

"_Marta, I gave strict orders that I wasn't to be disturbed," Tessa coldly reminded,. her back still turned on her loyal friend as she continued to comb her hair._

_Swallowing her sadness, the Gypsy servant cordially explained, "My apologies, Senorita, but you have an important visitor."_

"_I SAID…" Tessa turned round to see Doctor Helm standing in the doorway with Marta. Tessa stared at him for a moment. The surgeon had a sad look on his face._

"_I'll leave you two alone," said Marta, suddenly exiting the room as Robert respectfully thanked her. The Englishman turned back to the beautiful Spaniard, who had just put her hairbrush down on the dresser and walked over to get her blouse._

"_Tessa, can we talk, please?"_

_The Senorita ignored him as she undid some of the buttons on her undershirt, and then put her black blouse on, still studying the cold reflection in the mirror. The Doctor sighed and walked over to her._

"_Tessa, look at me," Robert asked his lover reaching out to touch her, but before he could, Senorita Alvarado looked over her shoulder at him, trying to cut him off with, "I'm busy, Robert. I've got work to do, and I thought you had patients to see back at the office."_

"_Is it your normal work, Your Highness?" asked the surgeon cynically, "Or is it the personal vendetta of Tessa Alvarado?"_

"_DON'T," warned the vigilante icily, as she got her bodice from the bed. "Not – today."_

"_Why today, may I ask? The Queen hasn't been seen in DAYS. People have been growing more fearful. Grisham's been making the most of your absence. Montoya's been suspicious, and after shunning the very people who rely on you to keep them safe, NOW you decide to 'go to work'? To do what? Extract vengeance from your father's murderers? Turning your back on the very ideals you've preached to me and others more?"_

_Tessa angrily threw her bodice back on the bed, Robert now having her undivided attention. Getting in her lover's face, she demanded to know, "Why are you getting on my case? I know it was your favourite hobby long before I told you who I was, but even for you, this has grown beyond pathetic…"_

"_LISTEN…to…me," explained Robert in a calm voice. "I am not getting at you…"_

"_Yes, you are."_

"_No, I'm not. I'm trying to make you SEE. You've shut yourself off from me, Marta and everyone else over the last few days. You shunned me on our date, you've been ignoring everything Lionel's doing, you've let your anger build up to this level, and I'm worried you're going to do something you'll regret."_

"_So you don't trust me, after all?"_

"_Tessa, please don't be difficult with me! You're letting your emotions get the better of you! It's rare when it happens, but when it does, you grow careless, and if you don't calm down you'll end up in a position like last time when Raul nearly…"_

"_HE DIDN'T, ALRIGHT?" snapped the Spaniard angrily. "I TOLD YOU THAT!"_

_Robert just stared sadly at her. The fear in his eyes was plain as day. The fear for Tessa and what she might do. Regret then came over the vigilante, who sighed in dismay, "I'm sorry."_

"_No, I'M sorry," Helm sighed apologetically, "I shouldn't have brought it up."_

_Tessa went to pick her bodice back up from the bed, then placed it over her blouse. Continuing to dress in front of the mirror, Tessa welcomed Robert as he started to fasten up the bodice, tying the laces one-by-one._

"_Tessa…" he began softly, "I'm only thinking about YOU. We ALL are, because we're worried about you. Because we CARE about you."_

"_And I appreciate that, Robert," she assured. "But I can take care of myself."_

"_I don't doubt that. But you're just as good at getting yourself into trouble."_

_Tessa thought about this for a moment, before quietly asking her soul mate, "How many more lives am I going to let them destroy?"_

_The Doctor could feel the unmasked Queen's shame. Thinking carefully before he replied, the Englishman said, "All I can say is don't let them destroy yours. The last time you fought Grisham he nearly killed you. He shot you, broke your ribs with that sledgehammer…we were all so scared about losing you."_

_The adventurer lowered her head in sadness, saying only, "I know."_

"_Then PLEASE…know this. Don't end up like Grisham and Montoya."_

* * *

><p>The Queen of Swords held the dagger up high. All her pain and suffering had now consumed her completely, transforming justice into vengeance. Grisham lay on the floor, concussed, helpless and at the mercy of a just Queen who now…had none.<p>

Tessa sneered angrily, shedding tears through her lace disguise, before allowing her roar of vengeance to escape her lungs.

"NO!" begged Marta, breaking into the room, running to grab the Queen's arm and make her drop the knife.

"Let go, Marta!" The Queen ordered. She was so obsessed with revenge that she didn't care about questioning what her servant was even doing here, in Grisham's quarters.

"Queen, stop it!" implored Marta, being careful not to blurt her real name out loud. "This isn't you!"

"He deserves to die!"

"Not like this! Please!"

"Get off me!" shouted the vigilante again, as she grappled fiercely with the Gypsy over the dagger. Although she herself was physically capable in a fight, Marta knew Tessa was younger, stronger and far more skilled than her. It was no contest, and in the state the Avenging Angel was in, it would end quickly and badly.

"You dishonour your father!" Marta angrily shouted without thinking.

And Tessa likewise retaliated without thinking…by punching Marta right in the face, knocking her down to the floor.

The enormity of what the Queen had done hit her hard. She exhaled sharply, slowly dropped the dagger from her fingers, then covered her mouth with both hands. It all began to sink in, what the rage had turned her into. Grisham was still down, no idea where he was or what had happened. Vera was unconscious, bleeding from the head and in dire need of medical attention.

The room, though hardly tidy to begin with, was much more of a mess now. Broken furniture and trashed belongings lay everywhere. Finally, Tessa looked down to see her loyal friend and servant, the woman who raised and loved her…lying on the floor, weeping through a black eye and bleeding from the mouth. Marta could only look up to the Queen with fear, shame and sadness. And Tessa likewise could only return the exact same look and emotions.

"What have I done? What have I become?" the Queen quietly asked. The tears couldn't stop flowing, the shame wouldn't allow her to take her eyes off Marta; the one she loved – and now hurt - the most.

"Papa…please forgive me…"

Lieutenant Williams kicked the door off its hinges and burst into the room with six men in tow. Everyone reacted without thinking, everything became a blur. The pistol-wielding Williams yelled at the Queen to stay where she was. The vigilante turned and ran out the back door, with Lionel yelling for half his men to chase after her, while the remainder tended to the wounded and got word to Colonel Montoya.

As the soldiers chased after the Queen riding away on Chico, Marta got up and ran over to Lionel, begging him to stop. Lionel could only lead her away to safety before she did something to make things worse, all the while barking orders to get Doctor Helm and mobilise every available soldier after the Queen of Swords.

* * *

><p>In the aftermath of the Queen's attempted murder, Lieutenant Williams remained outside Grisham's quarters, surveying the broken window and the mess inside the captain's home. The sight of the crime boiled within him, how a notorious criminal had attempted murder and got away.<p>

What angered him the most was that it had been his trusted ally. His _friend_. The one good mask who had convinced him of her heart and had helped repair the damage done to his own.

Williams hadn't seen it coming, when he should've done. It was Tessa's dad she'd been crying over. His death was the one instant that had made her the Queen, defined her purpose to avenge him. And all the trouble she'd gotten herself into…was because of her obsession to see his killers punished.

"Lieutenant Williams," came in Sergeant Anton, "our men are pursuing her as we speak. We'll go from house-to-house, scour the countryside, ride day and night…the other sergeants have joined in the search. Some of our men are scouring the town just in case she…"

"What about the wounded?" interrupted the Golden Lieutenant.

"Capitan Grisham and Senora Hidalgo are with Doctor Helm, sir. As are our men who were hogtied, but the Gypsy…"

"I'll see to her."

"Sir, she's refusing medical attention. Corporals Marco and Benjamin are with her, but…"

"I said I'll see to her. Has anyone told Don Gaspar about his wife?"

"No, sir."

"_Good_. _Keep_ it that way. He starts asking where she is, we 'officially' start a search party. Vera Hidalgo was NOT at the scene of the crime, do you understand? Tell Doctor Helm I'll be over shortly."

"Yes, sir," saluted the sergeant, making his leave. Lionel then walked over to where Marta was, sitting on a nearby barrel with Marco and Benjamin watching with her. Marta's face was still streaked with tears and her lip and right eye were swollen, but apart from that she was physically fine.

"Lieutenant Williams, I must speak with you," she insisted quietly. "In private."

"I thought I told you to go to Doctor Helm, Marta." Lionel wasn't in the mood for any arguments. "And I _know _I told _you_ _two_" – he pointed accusingly at his men – "to take her over there!"

"She was stubborn, sir," explained Benjamin. "We…"

"I feel fine, Lieutenant!" protested Marta. "I…!"

"It's _not_ a _request_, Marta. Marco, Benjamin, take her to Doctor Helm's office _now_."

Williams tried to leave as the corporals tried to escort the Gypsy away, but she wasn't having any.

"So are you just going to arrest her?" Marta angrily asked, pushing aside Marco and following after the American. "You're going to hunt down the very woman you and your family owe your _lives_ too?"

Lionel turned round, grabbed Marta by the wrist and led them both faraway from earshot and prying eyes.

"Yeah, the very woman who I _trusted_!" he fiercely whispered, his tone shocking the Gypsy servant as he leered in her face. "The woman who _I _have put my _neck_ on the line for! Time and time again! The spoilt little rich girl crying for daddy, whose murder _I've_ solved! And _how_ does she thank me for joining her crusade? After everything I've done? By attempting to murder the corrupt captain of the guard who we haven't actually convicted yet!

"I _counted_ on Tessa to keep a cool head while I handled things! By attempting to murder Grisham, she's effectively compromised herself and everyone else! Do you _understand_ that?"

"She's made mistakes before!" defended Marta, imploringly. "So have you! You know what she's lost better than most! Surely _you_ can understand…!"

"_Listen_ to me, Marta," explained Williams, slowly. "You are just like your mistress. You have a great heart and the courage and brain to match. But like Tessa, you arrogantly believe you know everything when you _don't_. The Queen has effectively ruined her own reputation by attempting to kill not only Captain Marcus Grisham, but also _assaulting _a _Don's wife!_ Bad enough that Vera's hurt without having to worry just what her stupid husband's going to think if he finally finds out that she was up to her usual tricks with the captain at his _own quarters_!"

"Lieutenant…"

"The Queen's not only endangered her, she may have just ruined her life, unless _I_ can come up with a damn good cover story! Then there's the matter of_ you_ being at the scene. What the hell was Senorita Alvarado's servant doing out here in the middle of the night trying to stop a vigilante from committing _murder_? You might as well have just told Montoya that your mistress likes putting lace over her face!"

Marta could only look down in shame as Williams furthered, "_Then_ there's the men she assaulted earlier, and I really dread to think how Montoya's gonna retaliate over it all! So under all those circumstances, tell me just exactly what _you_ consider to be my _duty_?"

"You're going to _kill _her!" the Gypsy fearfully replied, daring to look up at the American.

"Do you honestly think any normal soldier has a chance of catching her? Especially at night-time? I have to be seen to do my job! And Tessa's left me little to no choice but to do everything in my power to catch her and condemn her to the full extent of the law! And after what she did to _you_ back there, after all the pain and fear she's put you through, how can you even leap to her defence _without question_?"

Marta stared sadly at Lionel, bearing all the emotion in her eyes, before finally – and simply – saying, "Because I _choose_ to."

"Lieutenant Williams!" called another of his men who had spotted them a fair distance away. "Colonel Montoya wants you to report to his office immediately!"

The Gypsy went wide-eyed over the development. Williams gave her a look of cold stone.

"Go to Doctor Helm, Marta. Then go home. If you see your mistress before I do, tell her we're going to have a serious heart-to-heart."

"Lionel, please!"

"THAT'S…an _order_."

And so he left…leaving the Gypsy cold, alone, dejected…and more scared than she'd ever been in her whole life.


	3. Interlude

_Disclaimer: Queen of Swords was created by Fireworks Entertainment, and is owned by ContentFilm. This story is NOT affiliated with the rights holders or the show's original creators. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made. This story is for entertainment purposes only._

_The author would like to thank Robert Vincent for all his valuable support and input._

* * *

><p><strong>Interlude<strong>

Doctor Helm looked up at the clock. Ten to one in the _morning_, and he was tending to patients that he'd hoped he'd never have to tend. Grisham and his bunch of fellow murderers/soldiers was no big issue, personally speaking.

But Vera and Marta were.

Robert Helm looked up at the clock again. The time made him sigh in tiredness, anger, and disbelief.

_Tessa…WHAT have you done?_

The Englishman tried not to give into distraction, concentrating on where he was with the task at hand. The soldiers had been beaten up by the Queen no worse than usual, so _they_ would live. Marta's black eye and swollen lip were nothing major to treat, either. But the emotional scars of the Queen's rampage and striking out at her loyal servant and friend…

Marta had had every right to break down into tears, over what Tessa had done, what she had been through, what had now happened, and the Gypsy servant couldn't help but think that she'd failed her. Robert had done his best to console her, but it was for naught. Because the Doctor's current feelings towards the woman he loved were the same as Marta's.

Anger, shame, understanding…and failure.

Helm had failed to prevent Tessa from doing something like this. Failed to make more of an effort to be there for her when it mattered…

Trying to regain some focus, the Englishman moved onto his two remaining patients. Williams' men had come back shortly after the Doctor had finished with Marta, to take her home as per the Lieutenant's orders. Leaving Helm to rub his eyes to fight off the growing sleep. He was desperate for bed. Hell, he was desperate for a bloody drink!

He cast a brief look at Grisham, thinking _Still out like a light. Good. Best news all evening._ The captain would – unfortunately – recover rapidly. _Vera_ was the main concern now. Last time she'd had the misfortune of being caught up in between the Queen and Grisham's war, she fell off her horse and been put in a coma.

_At least Grisham can't DRUG her this time, _thought Doctor Helm bitterly. _Small blessing._

The punch Vera had received (courtesy of the Queen) was bad enough, but banging her head as she fell could've been damaging. The Senora was lucky that her head hadn't been cracked. No blood, but a really nasty bump that was discoloured and throbbing. Robert had tended to her as best he could, but had no way of knowing how long she'd be out for.

Or Grisham for that matter.

Helm was just about to wash his hands, when he heard a faint groan. He turned to see that Vera was starting to stir. Sighing in relief, the Doctor came to Vera's side as she slowly opened her eyes.

"Wha…where am I?"

"Vera, take it easy," warned Robert, studying her eyes. Dazed and confused, but relatively focused. She'd recover.

"Doctor? What's…?"

"You're safe in my office," he gently explained, trying to ease her back into a lying down position. "Don't sit up. You've had a very hard blow to the head, but you'll be fine."

"I _want_ to sit up," she whined, reaching out to touch the bruise on her head, then crying out in sharp pain, soon regretting her impulsive choice.

"In a moment. Just take it easy. How are you feeling?"

"Ohhhh…it's worse than waking up from that coma! I haven't been drugged again, have I?"

"Mercifully, NO. And you're very lucky. It could've been worse."

As Vera tried to remember what had happened, she caught sight of the comatose Grisham. Her memory sharply jogged by the violent events of last night, panic overcame Senora Hidalgo and she attempted to run over to her lover. But Doctor Helm stopped Vera, putting his calming hands on her to ease her back down onto the bed.

"He's unconscious. That's all," explained Doctor Helm soothingly, trying to accept that Vera loved the foul, unrepentant killer. "You need to stay calm, Vera."

"Doctor…the Queen of Swords attacked us!" exhaled the Senora, fearfully. "That look…that murderous crazed look in her eyes! She was _possessed_! I know that she and Marcus are enemies, but…she's never wanted to murder him in _cold blood_."

"Vera, _please_ just rest, you need to…"

"You weren't there," croaked Vera, her eyes welling with frightened tears. "It _couldn't_ have been her. _Please_ tell me it was another imposter!"

For the first time in years, Robert Helm had no idea what to do, as Vera grabbed his shirt and begged him to assure her that everything was going to be alright. He thanked God for someone knocking on his door to save him from the awkward moment with Vera. But after leaving her to answer the door, the Englishman discovered that his thanks to God were _again _premature.

"Robert…" asked Lionel gravely, "how is she?"

"She's just regained consciousness. Grisham's still out of it. Lionel, I'm sorry but this _isn't_ the best time."

"This won't take long. I've just come back from Montoya's."

The Doctor's face was overcome with yet more alarm. Marta had told him that the Colonel had summoned Williams to his office before he'd sent her over to Helm's office. The news had filled both of them with dread, and now…just when things couldn't possibly get any worse, they were about to.

"He wants _me_ to bag her head and drop it right on his desk," Williams said quietly, his unblinking eyes locked onto Robert's petrified own as the Golden Boy continued in a clear, concise voice. "Those are his orders. No more excuses. Either she's dead…or _I_ am."

The Englishman gulped down his fear and tried to stop his lip from trembling. Daring to ask the American, Helm said, "Lionel…you can't…"

"I need to speak with Vera before I go," insisted the Golden Lieutenant. Helm looked over his shoulder to see that Vera had been watching the two of them from inside Helm's office. She was growing even more scared and plainly wanted to talk with the honest soldier.

The anxious conceded surgeon reluctantly conceded, "Two minutes only," and allowed Williams to enter his office. The American approached the frightened Spaniard and assured her that her husband still had no idea that Vera was at the scene of the crime. When Vera said that she had to go home before Gaspar woke up, Doctor Helm and Lieutenant Williams said that she wasn't going anywhere until she was better. They promised to cover up for her by coming up with alibi's to explain her absence and injury. Of course, Vera would have to deny being a witness to the crime if she was to keep her secret safe.

"I understand, Lieutenant," nodded Senora Hidalgo, grateful for both Williams and Helm for protecting her. "Thank you. Both of you."

Lionel chose to leave, but stopped dead on the spot when Vera asked fearfully, "Lionel…_was _that the Queen of Swords? The _real _Queen? Will she attack us again?"

Williams gave a pained sigh and then looked back at the Senora. Robert was afraid that moment that he might say something to blow their cover. All the negativity on his face was there, ready to translate into words that wanted to escape.

Instead, Lionel just shook his head, explaining, "I don't know her, Vera. I don't know what she's _capable_ of. I never did."

And as he left them, Robert Helm could only sigh in pain, thinking again, _Tessa…what have you done?_

* * *

><p>Visiting this spot always filled him with guilt, loss and pain. It was the only time in his whole life that he actually felt those emotions. Or rather, it was the only time he <em>allowed<em> those emotions to enter his black heart.

Colonel Luis Montoya treaded the night-laden road all by himself, remembering the whole 'Counterfeit Queen' affair. The murderous thief Carlotta, a beautiful dangerous woman whose black heart matched his own. They were made for each other, which had truly surprised Montoya. His own family experiences had taught him that compassion was ridiculous and pointless.

And his ultimate betrayal of Carlotta, her tender declaration that she would 'see him in hell' just before she died…it had left a small scar on the corrupt colonel's heart that he never acknowledged to anyone but himself. It's why he visited the Canyon Pass faithfully, at least once a week.

Coming to a halt, Montoya solemnly lowered his head, took a white orchid from his coat pocket and knelt down to place it by the side of the road. This was the spot where Carlotta had ultimately died, after being shot off her horse by Grisham, and dragged along the ground, her leg caught in the stirrups on the saddle, before the panicked horse finally stopped.

"You were the _only_ one in my whole life who has _ever _been worthy of my affection, Carlotta," confessed Montoya with remorse. "And you were the only one whose death I've actually regretted.

"That's why I tried to make amends with you, even after you were gone. I revealed to the public about your existence, about what you'd done to discredit the Queen...gave to the church we robbed, so as to atone for what I'd done.

"And I gave you a proper burial…because you _deserved_ one."

Montoya looked up to the gravestone he'd had the masonry privately prepare for him. Beautiful marble, with Carlotta's name written in gold lettering, carefully hidden from passer-by's sight behind some bushes. Montoya looked down at the white orchid he'd laid in front of the gravestone and then remarked, "I _know_ I'm going to hell, Carlotta. I've long accepted that.

"That's why I can't stop. That's why I'll _never_ stop. It's too late for me, so there's no point in me even bothering to make amends. Except with _you_. I just want you to know that I _will_ continue until I get what I want and deserve ever since I was a boy. I will ruin the Queen, I will ruin Williams, and I will destroy everyone who has ever opposed me…until I finally get the empire that is rightfully mine.

"Nothing else will do, and I have no reason to explain to anyone else why I am the way I am. _Again_…you were the only one who ever understood. Who _could_ understand."

Standing up, the Colonel kissed his hand and then placed it affectionately on top of the cold gravestone.

"Goodbye, my love. I will see you again."

Montoya moved the bushes to cover up the grave and then slowly treaded back to his horse that was waiting for him beyond the entrance to the Canyon Pass. His fleeting solemn mood conquered again by his trademark ruthless nature.

The Colonel was about to mount his steed when he shot his head up. Allowing his annoyance to spread across his face, Montoya icily reminded, "My orders were_ strict_. No one was to follow me _here_."

"I apologise, Colonel," said the anonymous arrival. "But you need to hear this."

"What I _need_," stressed the menacing governor, turning to face his subordinate, "is the Queen of Swords _dead_. And Lieutenant Williams…_gone_. And _you_…NEED to provide me with the means of achieving those things. Just in case you'd _forgotten._"

Undeterred by the colonel's threat, the figure gave his report. Montoya's ears pricked with delight over this news, his mood changing into one of excitement.

"You are _sure_?" asked the colonel.

"Affirmative."

Allowing a sly grin to emerge, Montoya cocked his head to one side, looking at his spy from top-to-bottom. Clearly, this new pawn would prove most valuable to the governor in the long term.

"Well, then, my friend…" nodded the smirking Colonel, "it seems you've managed to keep your lives for yet another day. I think you know what you have to do now to buy your way out of this mess. _Don't you_?"

"Yes, sir," saluted the recruit.

"Good," remarked Montoya in approval. "Then do it quickly. Otherwise…you _all_ die."

* * *

><p>Two nights later…and Tessa had still yet to come home.<p>

The agony was more than Marta could bear. She hadn't been able to sleep ever since the Queen's attempt to murder the Captain of the Guard. She'd broken down into tears whilst Doctor Helm tended to her, and then kept her eyes open on the journey back to the hacienda with Williams' soldiers herding her home. It was three 'o' clock in the morning by the time Marta had finished with the Lieutenant, the Doctor, questioning from soldiers and the ride back home. The Gypsy tried to stay awake, hoping that Tessa would come back, but her body had no choice. Marta fell asleep on the couch in the living room, and didn't wake up until she had to, when the gardeners and farmers arrived for work.

It had been hell. Marta had had to put on her usual cheerful face for the workers, politely informing them that Senorita Alvarado had become bedridden with a nasty head cold and would be unable to see anyone. Doctor Helm had "personally" tended to her, conveniently satisfying soldiers that came over to the Alvarado land that wanted to see her. Especially when Marta showed them the 'Doctor's note' that Robert had written for her.

Then things had gotten bad when Lieutenant Williams had shown up twice demanding to see both Tessa and Marta, only to discover for himself that neither were in. The first time had been just by himself. The second had been worse, with a platoon helping him search the house. Marta had had to hide in the secret room behind the wine cellar, with Lionel shouting that they couldn't hide forever. Ultimately giving up and promising that next time he'd kick the door down, Williams had left, leaving Marta badly shaken.

The nightmares were growing stronger as well while she slept restlessly. She could visualise it perfectly, more so when she saw the Queen of Swords losing a fighting battle against the Hanged Man. Mercifully, that vision of the Queen dying at the Hanged Man's hands would prove false.

But _this_ vision…seemed so much more powerful.

The Queen of Swords and Captain Marcus Grisham locked in fierce battle again. They would beat, break and maim each other, more brutally than they'd ever done before. And _this_ time…the blood would flow like wine.

Someone _would DEFINITELY_…die.

Marta screamed as the final image of Grisham's sword about to gut Tessa shocked her into wakefulness. Panting to see the darkness of her bedroom, the Gypsy slowly realised that the relief was only temporary.

She wished Tessa was here, now more than ever. Marta was more angry with her mistress than she could recall, but right now it didn't matter. The Gypsy feared for her surrogate daughter, her safety and sanity. And right now, Marta needed a shoulder to cry on, just as much as Tessa surely needed the same.

Lighting the bedside candle and picking it up by the holder, Marta went to the kitchen, needing some milk. Getting a mug from the cupboard, she was just about to get some milk from the churns when she stopped abruptly, gasped sharply and dropped the empty mug, turning to ignore the shattering sound…and focus on the presence of the intruder she felt.

Turning to the shadows of the back doors, Marta gasped and froze…as the intruder finally emerged to face her.

Same black blouse and bodice, riding pants and red waist scarf, but no gloves…and more importantly…no mask. Emerging from the shell of the mighty Queen of Swords, was Tessa Alvarado, bearing her beautiful, young face…and all the shame and guilt that came with it.

Marta, her black eye still painful and visible from where Tessa had hit her, could only stare with her lip quivering. The unmasked Senorita could only stare back, with tears of remorse and every ounce of sorrow her eyes could show. The raw, emotional silence could've lasted forever, but three seconds was all that passed, before Tessa slowly approached her loyal servant and best friend, begging for her forgiveness.

Marta's lips formed an angry sneer before she viciously slapped the unmasked Queen right across the face. Tessa recoiled and held her own hand across her stinging left cheek. Daring to look back at her hurt servant, Tessa again showed her deeply apologetic features to the angry Marta, who ultimately accepted by grabbing Tessa for a tight embrace. Both fell to their knees in the dark kitchen, the candlelight flickering as they sobbed and hugged.

"I miss Papa, Marta!" cried Tessa. "I miss him so much!"

"I miss him too, Tessa…" replied Marta. "It's okay…"

"NO. It _isn't_."

The all-too-familiar, rough-edged voice made both women stand up on their feet in alarm. The cracks in Tessa's armour were starting to spread as Lieutenant Williams took his turn to emerge from the kitchen's shadows, the sounds of his slow, deliberate footsteps bouncing off the walls and ceiling.

His icy glare boring right into Tessa's soul.

"It's _not_ okay, Marta," stressed Lionel with flimsy restraint. "In fact, we're a _long_ way away from 'okay'."

"How…?"

"I've been waiting here for _hours_. You _really_ should consider getting some private guards on your estate. This place is _so_ vulnerable to intruders. No wonder _Raul_ was able to just waltz on to your land and see you take your mask off…_Tessa._"

Marta put herself between the soldier and vigilante, really not wanting to see their friendship disintegrate like this. Before she could even speak or Lionel could warn her not to interfere, Tessa stepped forward and outstretched her arm protectively in front of the Gypsy.

"You can do whatever you want to me, Lionel," the Unmasked Queen said bravely. "I know you have a duty and I don't hold that against you. But leave Marta alone. None of this is her fault. Deal with _me_."

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no…" dismissed the Golden Boy darkly. "You are _not_ getting off so easily. Because I honestly don't think you've grasped the full enormity of what you've done."

"How _dare_ you," said Tessa, angry over the nerve Lionel had struck. "I _know_ what I…"

"You betrayed me and you betrayed my trust!" Williams finally raising his voice at the vigilante. "I wanted to _help_ you! I wanted to give you the answer you've fought for your whole career! Because I felt sorry for you and because you deserved a solution to your pain!

"All I asked for in return was your _trust_! To let me handle this without doing anything to compromise the lot of us! And _now_ you may have single-handedly ruined us all! You nearly killed one of your best friends, you nearly killed the woman whose love and loyalty you _don't deserve!_"

Tessa shamefully looked down at the floor before Lionel grabbed her face and turned her back to see all his frustration. "Look at me when I'm talking to you! You've got Don Gaspar asking questions about Vera, you've got Montoya asking questions about Marta…our second-in-command is barely walking, making you public enemy number one! I've no choice but to _kill you_ now to safeguard me and my family to please Montoya, otherwise…!"

"So _do_ it!" challenged the senorita. "At least I can die grateful to you, knowing that you brought my father's killers to justice! And that _you_ wouldn't have acted like I did if it was _your_ parents' murder you were trying to avenge!"

With that one sarcastic statement, Williams just felt all his anger deflate completely. He let go of Tessa's face, who immediately regretted her badly chosen words. Now it was Lionel's mouth that began to tremble. He backed away, lost deep in a thought that had never occurred to him until now.

_Would_ Lionel have acted in the same way if it was _his_ parents' killers he was on the verge of convicting?

"Lionel…" said Tessa sadly, "I'm sorry. I truly am sorry for…"

"You're an _idiot_," Lionel quietly seethed, before repeating more loudly, "You're an ABSOLUTE IDIOT! A _stupid, over-emotional moron, _through and through!"

Another awkward silence fell over them, with Marta wishing – _praying_ – for things to go back to the way they were. Two opposites, united in true friendship to make a difference to Santa Helena. Both their families and lives enriched since coming together. All those happy memories they'd shared over the last several months, all those victories they'd won together…

Now coming apart.

In the end…Lionel Williams just shook his head in disbelief at Tessa.

"Next time, you're on your own," the Golden Lieutenant warned her, then turning to Marta. "I'll see myself out."

As the American left the Spanish women alone in the dark, Tessa couldn't help her sadness now mix with anger. The anger of betrayal that her ally and friend had given her.

Her tearful eyes now narrowing coldly, Tessa breathed in deep, saying to herself, "Well…it won't be the _first _time."

* * *

><p>Two weeks later, Lionel had finished writing the latest entry in his journal, and was now on his own in the middle of the night, cold and impatient on a hillside overlooking the beach, miles out of town. He hadn't seen Tessa or Marta since their last…'conversation', let alone speak to them. Or Robert Helm, though Maria was still talking to their friends, trying to save bridges before they burned completely.<p>

Williams had felt awful about the whole mess with Tessa. He was still angry with her for just loosing control like that, and angrier for that comment she'd made about his parents and what Lionel would do if the roles were switched. And Williams was admitting to himself that Tessa was most likely right. He probably _would_ lose it if it were his parents he was trying to avenge.

Aside from Montoya's threats growing all-the-more serious, Grisham had soon recovered from his assault and had become more hostile than ever. He was waiting, training, becoming more dangerous and determined than ever to bag the Queen's head.

Fortunately, the Queen of Swords _had_ laid low this time. So had Tessa Alvarado and Marta. No more surprises or violent assaults. Crime had thankfully taken a rest, too. Giving the Golden Lieutenant the time he needed.

To orchestrate this meeting.

The sound of a horse's rapid gallop grew louder and louder. The American looked to the east, and breathed in deep, content that the rider was one he recognised. An old friend from Spain, sent by the Royal Court on behalf of Ambassador Alberto Enriquez.

To deliver their decision.

The soldier rode up the hillside, making his steed halt once they'd reached the top. Williams saluted his superior as he stood to attention.

"Captain Horatio."

"Lieutenant Williams," the soldier saluted back, before taking a letter out of his jacket and handing it to the Golden Boy. "At ease. The decision of the Spanish Court."

Williams opened the envelope and removed the note from within. Horatio watched as Lionel read it slowly, studying every detail as carefully as possible. After he'd finished, Williams looked back up to his superior from Spain and remarked, "Full authority to act. Signed by the King himself."

"I should point out that it was most difficult, even for Ambassador Enriquez to persuade His Majesty to pardon this investigation. If it hadn't been for the viceroy's backing and _your_ reputation…well, I dread to think what the King's reaction would've been like."

"All the evidence…"

"All the evidence that you submitted to us," interrupted Captain Horatio, "has been carefully reviewed and corroborated. Corporal Juan's testimony is accepted."

"And the deal for his immunity? His son's safety?"

"Accepted. His cooperation with us has been exemplary. Corporal Juan and his child will remain imprisoned under _our_ jurisdiction until after the trial date is set. The next move is now _yours_, Lieutenant."

Williams looked down at the beach to see more longboats filled with soldiers reach shore and disembark, getting ready to set up camp. He then cast his eyes on the ship the troops from Spain had arrived in, thinking at long last, his dream was finally happening.

He was going to rid Santa Helena of its corruption. Lieutenant Lionel Williams was actually going to do it.

"I understand," nodded the Golden Boy to his superior.

"Know this," warned Horatio. "Accusing a colonel and his captain of murder and corruption alone is serious. But to _actually convict them_ is one of the worst issues any man could possibly face. Regardless of whether you're right or wrong…"

"I'm _not_ wrong," stressed Williams with conviction.

"It doesn't _matter_. If you _do _this wrong…you will make yourself, the Ambassador, the Spanish Army and the Royal Court laughing stocks of Spain and California. You will fall out of favour with the King _and_ his Court, you will lose your political protection and power, and you will be in disgrace."

"And my rank in the army? My home and standing in California?"

"Those you shall be allowed to keep…depending how badly you choose to ruin this. Now I ask you, Lieutenant Williams, as your superior…are you absolutely _certain_ you wish to go through with this?"

"If I chose to bail out after coming so far, we'd have never taken back Spain," answered Williams confidently. "This is what Ambassador Enriquez sent me to Santa Helena for. This _is_ why I came here in the first place."

Nodding in admiration, Captain Horatio replied, "Then I wish you the very best of luck, Lionel. My dear friend."

"Thank you, Pedro," nodded the lieutenant, as the captain from Spain rode off, leaving the American to look at the court order from the Spanish Government. The power and means he now possessed to end Montoya and Grisham once and for all.


	4. Touché

_Disclaimer: Queen of Swords was created by Fireworks Entertainment, and is owned by ContentFilm. This story is NOT affiliated with the rights holders or the show's original creators. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made. This story is for entertainment purposes only._

_The author would like to thank Robert Vincent for all his valuable support and input._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16: Touché<strong>

"_STILL_ nothing?" shouted Montoya, banging his fist on the desk.

"No, sir," seethed Grisham, just as angry as his commander. "No sign of her whatsoever. No messing up our operations, no capturing or killing bandits…not even to help some out widow getting her legs kicked out from underneath her."

"I _refuse_…absolutely refuse…to accept that she would just ruthlessly assault and humiliate my second-in-command, put him right at her mercy, then just run away like a coward."

_Unless…_pondered the governor secretly. _Possible_. _The Gypsy's unexpected arrival would certainly corroborate it._

"And I also refuse," Montoya turned back to Grisham, rising from his seat, "to accept failure-after-failure from you, Williams and all the other pea-brained imbeciles I've been forced to put up with for the _last-two-years_."

Grisham wasn't in the mood for his superior's putdowns, not after the Queen's attack on him and Vera. The effects of that chair smashing over his head still lingered as evidenced by the miscoloured bruise.

"Yeah, well, we've been expecting our glorious commander to lead by example," the captain snapped back. "To show us how it _should_ be done. Oh, I'm sorry, I _forgot_. You don't know how. What with sitting behind your cosy desk, and getting your ass handed to you by the Queen more times than can be counted. Everytime you _do _decide to grow a pair."

"Is that _more_ insolence from you, Grisham? Or an _actual spine_ starting to form? Either way, I think I've suffered your attitude and incompetence long enough. Seeing as how I _still _don't have the Queen's head, as I _told_ you when she first arrived…I think it's time to fulfil my promise and for _you_ to leave my…"

"Problems, Colonel?"

Montoya and Grisham simultaneously redirected their anger at Williams, who had dared to barge right into the governor's office, without knocking and with a mocking smile.

"I apologise for my lateness, sirs," said the Golden Lieutenant in his falsest voice. "I'd go into details, but…well, I'm really sure you _don't_ want to hear my excuses."

The Colonel and the Captain exchanged a mutual look before turning back on their enemy in common.

"My overrated Lieutenant," glared the governor. "We were just discussing _failures_. Specifically, the failure of this army to capture a certain BANDIT QUEEN! And how _you_ seem to be high on that list of lazy, ineffective idiots charged with the task! Perhaps you no longer care for that Golden bonce of yours, eh?"

Williams drily examined his finger nails, and then replied calmly, "Y'know, Montoya…that kind of tough talk did actually intimidate me once upon a time. But now, I've realised…it's just the meagre prattling of a scared little man and his pet Labrador."

"It's _Colonel _to you, W…!"

"NOT…any…more," interrupted the American. "GUARDS!"

Eight soldiers burst into the room, aiming their rifles at the bewildered governor and his second-in-command from all sides.

"What is the meaning of this outrage?" demanded Montoya. "Lower your weapons! I'll have you all court-marshalled and hanged for this!"

"You will remain silent!" ordered Lieutenant Williams, his voice overpowering the Colonel's authority as he held up an order from the Spanish Court. "By the power of His Majesty, you are now relieved of your command!"

The news shocked both Montoya and his second-in-command into submission.

"Colonel Luis Montoya and Captain Marcus Grisham," informed the Golden Boy venomously, "as of this moment, you may both consider yourselves _under arrest_."

"On what charge?" spat Grisham furiously.

"For the murder of Don Raphael Alvarado and the conspiracy to take his land."

"A ridiculously false allegation!" yelled Montoya in denial. "Don Alvarado died in a horse-riding accident!"

"Not according to Corporal Juan!" explained Lionel, now showing a copy of his written confession to the colonel and captain. "Who has agreed to testify in court and has other corroborating evidence connecting you both to almost every crime in Santa Helena."

"Juan's _alive_?" blurted out a shocked Grisham without thinking. The stunned Montoya couldn't help but angrily look back to the captain, and then back to Corporal Tomas who'd was making a note of Grisham's outburst to use against them in court.

Williams then leered into Montoya and Grisham's faces, sneering with rage, "We've _finally _got you, you sons of bitches."

* * *

><p>The last six hours had felt like a blur. Word got out in no time at all, and an angry mob soon swarmed military headquarters, shouting profanities and threats at the disgraced Montoya and Grisham as they were led straight to the jail in chains, awaiting trial. It took literally all the men Williams had under his command to keep the people back; disperse them long enough to keep the murderers alive and behind bars.<p>

The list of charges that they'd been made to listen to 'sounded about right' for Grisham, and 'mildly amusing' for Montoya, given that they'd actually missed at least _one_ unsolved murder, and _one_ unreturned library book. But the mood for humour was fleeting.

Grisham couldn't believe this was happening. He didn't _want _to believe it was happening. He'd honestly believed himself to be untouchable, even after attempted murder of his commanding officer, deserting the War of 1812…and murdering Don Raphael Alvarado.

The predicament made him think back to Krane. He'd never expected _Krane_ to have come back from the dead and turn his life upside down the way it had. And now it was that damn loser _Juan_, who had resurfaced and squealed!

_How the HELL did that happen?_ Grisham wanted to know._ We dragged out a body! It HAD to be his! God, why can't worthless turds like him and Raul stay flushed down the toilet where they belong?_

As the disgraced captain paced, cursed and kicked the cell bars in frustration, Montoya just resigned himself to the bunk in his cell, staring at the ceiling, fingertips pressed against each other and his mind…reflecting.

_Deducing_.

It had genuinely shocked - _and impressed_ – Montoya, what Williams had done. He _knew_ that Williams had been up to something over the last month. It would explain his uncharacteristic inefficiency in bagging the Queen's head, and he knew it would be big whatever it was, but the colonel _still_ hadn't seen this coming. Not even Juan and his documents. The governor had clearly underestimated both Williams and Juan; their resource and intellect, now allied together.

Truly, it was a serious threat, and they'd exploited him through Don Alvarado's suspicious death, unearthing serious evidence (foolishly believed to be destroyed). They'd ousted him from power, arrested him with the authority and knowledge of the Spanish Court, and condemned him to death.

No guards, no more grunts on his side, just a sure-fire date with execution.

But if they _all_ actually believed this meant Montoya was finished…well, the Colonel would take great pleasure in turning the tables.

Completing his own machinations on Williams.

And the Queen.

* * *

><p><em>Fools, <em>smiled Montoya in delight. _Do they ALL really think I can go down THIS easily? I'll admit you've truly impressed me, Williams. You ALWAYS have. But you've forgotten the most important thing. You maybe Golden, but you're NOT perfect. And you, just like the Queen…have left me too many pieces of the puzzle._

_Why would you go to all this trouble just to see me imprisoned and convicted for Alvarado's murder? He died long before you came along, Williams, and it goes much beyond your sense of duty and justice. No, the REAL reason you went to all this trouble was as a FAVOUR to someone else._

_Your new friend, the tragic Senorita Tessa Alvarado._

_Ah, yes…Tessa didn't show her pain and despair as much as her demeanour would allow. That first day when she came to Santa Helena, trying her hardest not to cry when I killed that forgettable slave of her father's…or when I nearly took her homeland away._

_DAMN her for robbing me of my victory. I should've slit her throat for daring to mock me with that smile._

_It was always too convenient for my liking that the Queen of Swords emerged shortly after Tessa Alvarado came to Santa Helena. So soon after her father died in that 'unfortunate riding accident'. And that she seemed so desperate to save that prisoner; the son of the slain father I had executed._

_Time and again, I had plenty of reason to suspect YOU as the Bandit Queen, Tessa Alvarado. Whenever you stopped a runaway horse in public, or somehow managed to be the only lady at Doctor Helm's welcoming party to not be tended for any possible wounds the Queen suffered during that trap on the mine route. And yet, with a convincing faint or a self-centred display of vanity, you always managed to quell suspicion._

_But like your newfound ally, you were never perfect, were you, My Queen? When we nearly had you in that trap, you lost your blouse; the beautiful Skin of the Fox, a fabric that only the rich can afford. A rich, Spanish aristocrat. Long black hair, those beautiful brown eyes._

_Just like yours, Tessa. We've known each long enough now._

_And who could ever forget your precious Antonio?_

_Despite my absolute contempt for you and your infuriating interference in my affairs…I always call a spade a spade. You are a brilliant, formidable foe, my dear. Intelligent, quick-witted, courageous, highly-skilled…your ability with the sword has surpassed many. Even my own on the occasions we've actually crossed blades._

_You most certainly are NOT a coward, My Queen. You never have been. So imagine my absolute refusal to believe Antonio's story when the trap sprung. You didn't fight him like you normally would any opponent. You ran away! Inconceivable! Unbelievable! Impossible!_

_Or so it had initially seemed. When Antonio later attacked Grisham, robbed my office and showed at your hacienda, Tessa…and offered then and there to reveal the Queen's secret, I knew Antonio was truthful with his claims. Given that he had actually given YOUR mask to Grisham._

_Don't think I hadn't seen that PATHETIC, tearful last look you exchanged with your beloved, Senorita. Right before he audaciously threw my gold down on the ground and dared to try and kill me. Giving up his life, taking your secret down with him. And as you wept and I boiled furiously over the victory you cost me – AGAIN! – I overlooked the clue you left behind._

_Only YOU would refuse to fight the man you loved, Alvarado. If the Queen had been anyone else, you wouldn't have hesitated for a MOMENT. In Antonio's eyes, only YOU would have been worth sacrificing his very LIFE for!_

_I was certain of all this BEFORE, when Raul (of ALL people!) discovered the truth and boasted about it when he came back from his gutter in that feeble attempt to blackmail me. Naturally, Queen, you'd save that disgusting shaman because of your sense of justice…but why would you risk your very life for filth like Raul? A deserter of my OWN army?_

_Then I remembered. I'd coerced him and his little cousin Juan into helping with Don Raphael's murder. Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh…_

_The motive that you were trying to avenge your dear father's 'unfortunate accident' sounded so ridiculous, so sickening, so…poetic. But true to your conniving nature, you fooled us all again, didn't you, Tessa? Staging your tie-up so that no one would ever believe that you were the Queen. I have no regrets about buying your deception and chasing after Raul's hide. I was going to cleanse my life of the little vermin, either way._

_Still, it was another setback. While discovering Raul's skewered, washed-up remains was satisfying, I was all the more puzzled. His anonymous killer had either gone to great trouble to make sure he wouldn't pester anyone again…or his death had been accidental. Raul had eluded Grisham and my men once more. So he obviously encountered someone before he died._

_Could it have been YOU, my dear? Making one last futile attempt to know who killed your precious daddy?_

_Most of the time you behaved…or rather, PRETENDED to behave in typical, clichéd spoilt, aristocratic, brattish fashion. All the more convincing cover, eh My Queen? But even so, Tessa Alvarado couldn't help but behave unusually. Especially when it came to your dearly-departed papa._

_Your vehement defence of your father when I accused him of being a traitor to the state, upon my discovery of the pact he'd made with Dons Miguel and Hidalgo to protect Horatio's fortune from me. Your uncharacteristic bravery and conviction when you stepped between your vengeful Uncle Alejandro and Don Ricardo, during my plan to set them both up to clear suspicion and make the water rights mine._

_Your wise belief that Ricardo had nothing to do with your father's demise. The heart-breaking rejection from your angry uncle that nearly reduced you to tears. Heh, heh, heh, heh…poor, unfortunate, little Tessa._

_All the more reason for you to stick your nose in and thwart Grisham's attempt to kill both Alejandro and Ricardo, thus pacifying your now-remorseful uncle and regaining his love._

_It's not just Don Alejandro who loves you, is it, Tessa? Yes…you have SO many people who cherish you. In both your guises. The people who rely on you to keep them safe. The happy workers who love doing your gardening._

_But I KNOW those who truly love you more than anyone else. More than Vera Hidalgo. More than that arrogant cow Maria Williams, and more than even my Golden Lieutenant lets on. Doctor Helm loves you very much, doesn't he? Every bit as much as he despises you. The odious hypocrite._

_For all his disdain for spoilt, little Tessa and the methods of the warrior Queen…he's always loved you. Even more than his wet sweetheart Camilla. Why else would he pull a gun on me to allow you to escape? More importantly, why would he risk life, limb and reputation to protect you when Grisham severely injured you?_

_Because he LOVES you. Enough to have recently displayed a much more amicable attitude to your civilian identity._

_And speaking of LOVE…who loves you more than your precious Gypsy slave? Beautiful, intelligent, and brave Marta. She's always stood by your side, hasn't she? Just as you've always been there for her._

_I don't think it's really necessary naming all those incidents with Leonardo or Ambassador Ramirez. Not anymore. Not when Marta was one of the only few to have escaped town during the lockdown. You think it had escaped my notice, Tessa? Almost, but not quite. She was so determined to vouch for her mistress, much more than any mere servant should. I'd spotted her early that morning, and knew my Lieutenant was up to something when he vouched for both of you instead of Sergeant Hernandez; the officer I'd assigned to investigate residences outside Santa Helena._

_Maria Williams played her part too, I'd realised. I had no idea that she could wield a sword as well as her husband. And I probably never would have if not for her deceased brother-in-law, Malcolm Conrad, telling me everything I needed to know about her past and background. Maria's confirming her strength by fending off my advance back in my office - during that whole Conrad affair - corroborated everything he'd told me. About her acting, her physical prowess…and the injuries she'd sustained from Conrad made the truth all the more clearer._

_Maria Williams had impersonated the Queen during the lockdown to confuse us more, throwing us off your trail. Again, so clever._

_But you simply couldn't keep up the charade forever, Tessa. Everyone slips up inevitably. And I knew it would be at your own hand. Grisham told me you'd come to Santa Helena with a score to settle. And you trying to avenge your father on the man who killed him confirmed what I've been suspecting and piecing together ever since you first arrived. I really must thank your precious Marta as well, running in to stop you from doing what any sane, rational person would have done. Only the Gypsy would've intervened, doing everything to stop her mistress._

_That confirmation, plus Williams coming out with what he's been up to over these last few months…spelled it all out perfectly. You need not be surprised, Maria Theresa Alvarado. You've never insulted my intelligence so I won't insult yours. You've always realised I am not a stupid man. And I'm sure deep down you knew I would find out the truth eventually. I could've unmasked you myself or discovered the secret through other means._

_But putting it all together myself, doing what no one else could do…makes my victory all the more SWEETER._

_Ah…and NOW, I have it right here in writing._

_YESSSSS…my wonderful little pawn. I have so many of them, as you AND Lionel Williams, and all you both love, will discover in due course. And THIS pawn of mine, is the one you least suspect. The one who escapes even the nose of a Golden Boy._

_Yes, this is the confirmation. Right here._

_You're finished now, Tessa. You ALL are._

_I, Colonel Luis Montoya, have finally unearthed the truth. And THIS time…I'm proved 100 percent CORRECT._

_Tessa Alvarado…is the Queen of Swords._

* * *

><p>"<em>I must offer congratulations, Lieutenant. You have righted a wrong that has been unresolved for too long. You have helped my family to heal from scars Montoya inflicted on us, you have cured a child's pain, brought peace to a whole community…and you've single-handedly rid this town of corruption."<em>

"_I do my duty, Senor."_

"_A humble attitude from a Golden boy. That I find most admirable indeed."_

"_Thank you, sir. I am proud to serve the people."_

"_As the Colonel and Captain are equally proud to torment them. And I should know."_

"…

"_Why don't you tell me what's on your mind, Don Ricardo?"_

"_Lionel, you are one of the few good men in this land I am deeply honoured to have met. Santa Helena has sorely needed a Good Samaritan like you."_

"_It's had Doctor Helm."_

"_As it has had the Queen of Swords. Both of whom I owe my very life to."_

"_I remember."_

"_As I remember how you respected my privacy during your investigations of both the vigilante and our corrupt governor. You've shown me kindness and respect. More than you show most other Dons."_

"_Probably because you're one of the few Dons who I actually like."_

"_Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Touché, Williams. But you can't afford to get too overconfident, bordering on arrogant."_

"_I'm sorry, Ricardo, I know that…"_

"_I trust your judgement, Lieutenant. And I already know YOU know of my experiences being set-up by Montoya and Grisham over the water rights. The manipulation of Tessa Alvarado and her uncle._

"_So I need only tell you what I told Montoya a long time ago._

"_The lead buffalo may be the first to feed…but he is also the first to the slaughter."_

* * *

><p>Williams just couldn't get Ricardo's words out of his mind.<p>

It was shortly after the conference with the Dons that the American and the aristocrat had spoken in private. As Williams rummaged every draw in the household, he started to grow more and more fearful.

As if the day hadn't been stressful _enough_.

Fending off the angry mobs swarming to get to Montoya and Grisham had been bad enough. The whole of Santa Helena was out for their blood, and Williams had done everything in his power to keep them both alive along enough to get them to court.

Rocks had been thrown, shots were fired and the whole town had had to be put on alert for any crime wave that would hit. Surely some notorious bandits would take advantage of Montoya and Grisham's arrest, but thanks to Captain Horatio and the reinforcements from Spain, the military had been able to quell problems, and now had the public under control, and were ready for any outside threats.

After reading Montoya and Grisham their rights and compiling the list of charges, Williams had also had to make doubly sure that they were being guarded by _his_ men. For all the lieutenant's efforts, there were _still_ soldiers loyal to the Colonel who Williams hadn't been able to link to any criminal activity yet. They'd obviously try to make a move, so Williams had done everything possible to keep all the corrupt lackeys away from their masters.

The Golden Lieutenant knew that he would have to meet with the Dons upon arresting his superiors. He hadn't been looking forward to it, and his concerns of it being problematic were justified.

In the Rose Courtyard, Williams had assembled all the Dons together to address their suspicions and confirm the rumours. The reaction over the news of Don Alvarado's killers had shocked all but the wisest and most suspicious (Ricardo, Philippe and Vega). However, the evidence that Williams had shown the Dons – regarding Juan & his confession – had been enough to send _everyone _into a frenzy.

Given the void left by Montoya, Williams had been deemed 'acting governor' by the Spanish Court until a successor would be officially named. De la Caldron, Gaspar and other Dons had angrily protested over this decision, but when Williams had shown them the Court Order with full authority to act, his detractors had no choice but to begrudgingly accept. Williams had further put them in their place by saying they'd be expected to testify in court when summoned, and he'd pleased his supporters even more when announcing that life would go on as normal until after the trial was over, when the head of state would officially change.

Williams had left his men to continue their thorough search of the Governor's office, hoping they'd come across something they'd missed. Obviously, Montoya's treasure room behind his bookcase was hardly a secret, given that the Queen, Doctor Helm and several key men in the army knew about it, but knowing the Colonel, there was bound to be something else hidden elsewhere. Hopefully, more evidence.

Not that it was necessary now. But every little helped as Williams had learnt.

Here and now, though, the American could only think about Ricardo's warnings. As every second passed, Lionel grew more frantic, opening chests and drawers in the bedroom, throwing clothes everywhere as he searched.

_Ricardo was right,_ Williams realised, pulling the wardrobe out from the alcove. _This was far too easy. Montoya wouldn't just allow himself to go down like this!_

He looked toward the upper corner just below the ceiling, praying that he'd find what he was looking for. The spot where he'd hidden those files to clear his name during Malcolm's return, Lionel had wallpapered over it again as another hiding place. Using his knife, he cut away the bulge of paper to discover nothing but air.

"Lionel, what are you doing?" demanded Maria, angrily coming into the room. "It's past time we were eating!" Upon seeing the mess of their bedroom, she groaned angrily, "Oh, for God's sake, what on Earth are you looking for?"

"Where's my journal?" he asked urgently.

"Isn't it in your chest? Why are we even talking about…?"

"I've looked _everywhere_! It's not in the house!"

Maria stared at her husband for a moment before saying, "Well, it's gotta be _somewhere_. Most days, you keep it locked and safe all the time. Never leaves the house, never leaves your sight, you've never lost it _at all_. Ever since you were seven, even throughout the war, you've held onto it."

"Maria, I _can't_ find it," stressed the Golden Boy, "are you _sure_ you haven't seen it? Has _Theresa_…?"

"Lionel, Theresa knows she's not allowed to even _touch_ it. She doesn't even know where you _keep _it most of the time! And nobody outside this family even knows about it!"

"I don't _lose_ things, Maria. _Neither_ of us do."

"Well, when was the last time you saw it?"

"Yesterday, but…!"

"Honey, it's been a long day! For all of us! You're just being paranoid. You haven't had anything to eat or drink since _this morning_!"

"Maria…Montoya and Grisham know about it."

"But _how_?" she asked, trying to keep him calm at the risk of losing her own composure. "You and the Queen have rooted out so many of their spies, that…"

"They _must_ do. Something's wrong," said Lionel, shaking his head. "I can _feel _it."

"But _surely_ they couldn't know about it! Not even our friends know! You yourself saw just how much Montoya was caught completely by surprise! Unawares even!"

"Montoya can turn things around. All this was far too easy, there's something wrong about…"

Both heads sharply turned to the sound of door knocking, then back to each other; Williams' paranoia waiting to be justified, his wife hoping that the visitor would be able to pacify his nerves. Maria left to get the door, leaving Lionel to hear his spouse talking to the visitor, expecting her to launch into her string of excuses. _"We're about to have dinner!", "He's not in", "He's busy", "Is it urgent?"…_etc.

Instead, Maria just answered the door, then moments later came back up the stairs with a solemn expression.

"Lionel, it's Tomas. He says Montoya's demanding to speak with you. Immediately."

* * *

><p>Ten minutes later, Williams walked into the jailhouse. He'd ordered his men to remain outside. All of Montoya's loyalists were still elsewhere just as the Golden Lieutenant had ensured.<p>

THIS would be purely between him and his disgraced superiors.

The jail felt colder and creepier than the American could ever recall. And it was more than just the wind outside, that rattled him to the bone. As Lionel walked through the lobby, venturing further into the cells…he could hear growing, mocking laughter from Grisham, as though he was being told an amusing story from one of his fellows.

Or rather, a child who was being amused by an engaging narrator.

Lionel's fear grew in the dark cells, as the wise old storyteller regaled the jolly old captain with text Williams knew so well.

Because he'd WRITTEN it.

"…_never knew why she'd done it until she hit me with it. The truth is – deep down – I knew she was right. If our positions had been reversed…I probably would've gone after MY parents' killer, the way she'd gone after hers._

"_And that's why I let her go. Because I felt sorry for her. Because I could relate to her. Two names, two identities, two lives, a childhood and innocence forever stolen, leaving a scarred heart that can never stop bleeding."_

Grisham was now completely cracked up in hysterics, and Williams could now envision the mocking smirk Montoya would greet him with as he quickened the pace to confront them, the narration continuing…

"_Tessa Alvarado, the Queen of Swords. Andrew Conrad, Lionel Williams. Allies forever against a corrupt state. Trying to purge Santa Helena, California of the cancer that plagues it._

"_Trying to desperately write those hard words…and they all lived happily ever after._

"_And failing all the time."_

Montoya looked up from his bunk, greeting his shocked lieutenant with the biggest smirk in his life.

"'_End of log'_," finished the jailed governor, as Captain Grisham applauded mockingly, "Encore, Golden Boy! Encore!"

Williams ignored his fellow American, choosing instead to glare intently at the Colonel, who snapped the journal shut and sat up to address Lionel from his side of the bars.

"_Very_ poetic, Lionel," remarked the evil governor, sinisterly. "So soulful, so heartfelt, so…_honest_. I knew you to be a magnificent soldier and leader, but you continue to amaze me once again, my Golden Lieutenant. What a _skilled_ writer you are! If only the rest of the army were here to read this!"

Lionel swallowed his fear, trying in futility to stifle his absolute failure. The enormity of _his_ blunder, all the consequences it had created. _Because of HIS emotions._

Because of HIM.

"Walls have _ears_, Andy," grinned Grisham from his cell. "Surprised you've _forgotten_."

Williams sharply turned his attention to the Captain, demanding to know, "How?"

"Sorry, Williams," smiled Marcus, shaking his head. "Trade secret. That's what you get for keeping trade secrets from _us._"

"What _would_ Ambassador Enriquez say?" Montoya thought out loud. "What would His Majesty and the Spanish Court say if they found out that the hero of Spain had been conspiring with a treacherous daughter of a Don? For _months_? That's _just_ as bad as the governor and captain of the guard conspiring to kill said-Don and takeover his land. Wouldn't you agree? Such scandalous revelations all-round could very well send Spain's dominion over California into the biggest political upheaval in history.

"And of course, now we all know the truth about each other…we now have the means to _destroy_ each other. Which seems all the more wasteful. What good is a prize as rich as Santa Helena when there's no one left to claim it, eh?"

"Speak for yourself, Montoya," Williams quietly rebutted. "Only you would see this town as a possession."

"Then why do _you _and _Tessa Alvarado_ seem so determined to see me gone and Santa Helena free for _yourselves_? Stalemate, Lieutenant. Just like the situation we all now find ourselves in. No one wins. Not today. Shall we just pretend the whole thing never happened?

"So we may begin the game anew?"

Williams could only stare at both Montoya and Grisham. Then begrudgingly take the keys from his belt.

"Stalemate…"

* * *

><p>The next night…<p>

"JAILBREAK!" cried the guard on watch. "SOUND THE ALARM!"

The soldiers scrambled, rallying together to form an immediate search party. Some stayed behind to tend to the men guarding the cage who had been knocked out unconscious. They'd been hit very hard on the head, suffering severe bruises…but they would live.

While the prisoners had _escaped_.

"Find them quick!" ordered Lieutenant Joaquin to the sergeant. "Send riders into the town! Notify Lieutenant Williams at once!"

"Yes, sir!" the sergeant saluted, darting off whilst his superior raced to the captain's tent. The Spaniard emerged from the canvas doorway, wanting to know what all the commotion was about.

"What's going on, Lieutenant?" he demanded.

"Captain Horatio! The deserter Juan has escaped from the cage, sir!"

"What? How?"

"The men guarding the cage were knocked out, sir! When they properly come to, they'll be able to tell us more. We've sent word out to Lieutenant Williams, and despatched riders to…!"

"What about the boy?"

Lieutenant Joaquin paused before confessing, "He escaped with his father, sir."

* * *

><p>Four nights later, Williams was sitting all alone, under the porch at the back of his house. No booze, no journal to comfort his tortured soul…<p>

Just a very cold, very lonesome backyard…with the voices of failure rattling his head. And all the 'Golden Boy' could do was bury his face deeper into his folded arms, foolishly trying to escape the fact that it was now all _his _fault.

Montoya and Grisham's release had caused outrage for the people. Outrage that was soon quelled by a ruthless iron fist. The population was back to its timid, subdued, oppressed state in no time at all. The naïve Dons and supporters of Montoya welcomed him back to power, keen to courtesy his favour once more so as to vainly avoid any reprisals. The reinstatement of Captain Grisham also created a new wave of fear for the people, and a mixture of joy and anger for the aristocracy.

The unexpected escape of Juan and Julio could only sully things even more. The Royal Court took it as a sign of gross plagiarism from a pretender, and inexcusable incompetence on Williams' part, for allowing himself to be deceived this way…and for daring to allege his superiors and allowing a case of such magnitude to fall through.

Lionel was now the biggest laughing stock of the aristocracy in Santa Helena. He was now out of favour with the Spanish Court and Ambassador Enriquez, having lost the political protection for his family and the majority of his connections. Now in disgrace, Williams was told by his superiors to consider himself the luckiest man in California to still have his rank and his home.

Captain Horatio and all his men from Spain had long gone back home. Juan and Julio were now missing, most likely on the run, along with the chest full of evidence that the deserter had amassed. Montoya's first priority was now finding Juan and his son…and _finishing_ the job he started.

Before doubtless coming after Williams.

And all he loved.

Then ultimately the Queen of Swords. A.K.A. Tessa Alvarado.

And all she loved.

The Shamed American felt the hand of his wife touch his shoulder. She knelt down beside him on the steps, removing her hand so she could place her whole arm around to comfort him.

Lionel didn't respond to Maria's support.

"Lionel," Maria gently urged, not knowing what words she could give.

"I wanted to save Santa Helena," he whispered. "I wanted to help Tessa. I failed."

"Lionel, it's _not_ your fault. You've got to…"

"_Don't_ molly-coddle him, Maria."

They both looked up to see an angry Queen, hands-on-hips, pacing deliberately slow in their direction.

"Everyone knows that it _is_ his fault," the masked Tessa coldly stated. "So why bother denying it? Why bother denying _anything_ anymore? Because thanks to _you_…there's not even any point in _me_ wearing _this _anymore." The vigilante tugged at her shawl mask gently, restraining her anger that was about to erupt.

"IS there…Andrew?" The Queen patronised the disgraced lieutenant.

"Tessa, please," begged Maria, putting herself between the two of them. "We can't let this…"

"Kid, I didn't mean for this to happen," explained Lionel, interrupting as he dared to stand up and address her. "I didn't…"

"Don't you _dare_ 'kid' me!" belittled the Queen of Swords, pushing Maria aside so she could punch Lionel right across the face. _Hard._ The solider fell to the ground, only allowed a second to feel the sting of a pained nose, before the Avenging Angel picked him up off the ground, grabbing him by the neck and pinning Lionel against the wall of his house.

Then drawing her dagger against his throat.

"I _trusted_ you!" yelled Tessa angrily, not being careful to lower her voice. "Me _and _Marta! I gave you the benefit of the doubt! She took you _and_ your family into our confidence! We told you _everything_! I saved your _life_! I saved your _family's_ lives! You saved _mine_! After everything we've been through together, why didn't you tell me that you kept a _journal_? After all this time, all these secrets we've shared? What was so special about _this_?"

Lionel looked to Maria, who just stood still powerless and sad, letting tears paralyse her on the spot. _Don't do anything, _his eyes told her, before daring to look back at the angry, vengeful masked eyes of Don Alvarado's Angel.

"Because I saw no need," explained Williams feebly, gasping as the sharp steel pressed hard against his throat. "Ever since I was a boy…no one knew about the journal except my father when he gave it to me. Not even my mother, not even _Malcolm_ knew about it. I only told Maria about it because all throughout my life, ever since my parents' murder, I had no one else who I could trust completely except _her_. If I told no one else, I knew we'd be all safe. From _Malcolm_, from _Napoleon_…"

"And from _Montoya_?" asked the Queen, eyes narrowed cynically and her head cocked. The shamed soldier croaked another feeble, "Yes."

"So you blurted out all your secrets…all _my _secrets…into something that could be used against you and everyone else, at _any_ time...because you felt _depressed_."

"It was the only thing I had left of my father. I kept it safe for so many years, I thought…"

"That is the most _pathetic _thing I've ever heard in my life," ridiculed the masked Tessa, her tone lowering more out of hate than the need to be quiet. "You should've known that sooner or later Montoya would be onto you.

"I may have screwed things up big by trying to murder Grisham, but you've made more of a mess of things than even _I could_. You stupid son-of-a-bitch! You've ruined my life, you've ruined your own! You've compromised Marta, Robert, Maria and Theresa, you've condemned the whole of Santa Helena!

"And it's not the fact that you had a diary! It's the fact that you didn't even tell me! I could've taken steps to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands!"

"Montoya would've…"

"Montoya would've _what_?" snapped Tessa. "Figured it all out eventually? Maybe he already _had_ done! Maybe _I_ could've fooled him into thinking otherwise to protect ourselves! But now Montoya has it in _plain writing_ to show the whole world! And the only thing that's stopping him is the fact that I now know he orchestrated my father's murder! And there's actual evidence against him that's got him all on _edge_!"

The Queen's words hung in the night air. The wind only serving to make the atmosphere more tense. Maria stood powerless; praying that Theresa hadn't been woken up by the noise, wishing that Marta was here to help her pacify the situation that was rapidly spiralling out of control.

Lionel put every ounce of remorse and shame into his face. Tessa returned the expression by pressing the dagger's blade even harder against the lieutenant's throat, now tantalisingly close to actually slitting it.

"Tessa…" said Williams, shedding tears. "I'm _sorry._"

The Queen continued to glare angrily at the disgraced soldier. When she chose to spoke, the vigilante did so with a cold, ruthless honesty.

"You should never, _ever_ have come to Santa Helena. You're the worst thing that's _ever_ happened to me and the people. And I should kill you right now for what you've done. Betraying my trust, threatening me and Marta the way you did, and compromising all your friends. Your _own family_.

"And I can actually slit your throat and bleed you dry. Right here and right now."

Maria just didn't know what to do. Feeling so helpless and torn, she just shed tears over seeing her husband and best friend's alliance just crumble into ashes. Frozen and powerless, Maria watched as the masked Tessa coldly continued, "And I _can_ do it. I _want_ to do it, and I wouldn't feel any guilt over it. Not _this _time."

Lionel offered no resistance whatsoever as the mask still had him pinned against the wall. Much more stronger than her physically, able to overpower and turn the tables in a second. But he had no desire. Because she was right about everything. And because Lionel Williams…was just a powerless little boy, unable to do anything but watch his whole world fall apart.

"Even if," the menacing Queen declared, "Maria and Theresa would hate me for the rest of their lives, I would take you away from them. Like you tried to take me away from Marta and Robert."

Lionel just stared weakly at his former friend, weeping in defeat, "I deserve to die."

"Yes. You do. But you cut me some slack after _I _messed up."

The Queen of Swords withdrew her dagger and released the lieutenant. As Tessa placed her dagger back in her boot, Williams slumped to the ground nursing his throat.

"Consider my debt repaid," the masked senorita bitterly declared. Turning to the devastated Mrs Williams, the Queen told her, "Maria…you and Theresa can still count on my support. _That's_ not something that will ever change."

Casting one last look at the man who had ruined everything forever, the Queen of Swords warned him, "But _you_ can stay the hell out of my life. Don't ever look at me as your friend again."

Lionel Williams lowered his head back into the folded arms of shame. Maria watched with tears of dismay as her best friend, Tessa Alvarado walked away into the night.

Now no longer with the option to hide, the masked senorita lowered her face into her left hand. Feeling ashamed, vulnerable, heartbroken, responsible and alone all over again, just like Lionel Williams.

The alliance was officially over.


	5. Turning Point

_Disclaimer: Queen of Swords was created by Fireworks Entertainment, and is owned by ContentFilm. This story is NOT affiliated with the rights holders or the show's original creators. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made. This story is for entertainment purposes only._

_The author would like to thank Robert Vincent for all his valuable support and input._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17: Turning Point<strong>

It was now the eighth day of December 1818. In the years of Montoya's reign, Christmas in Santa Helena had never really been the season of giving and joy for the people. Most of the aristocracy naturally made it a time for plenty of food, wine and presents and other vain, self-centred treats.

Last year though…had been the first Christmas that all the people had truly savoured and celebrated. Because it had been their first Christmas with the Queen of Swords, who had done everything in her power to make it one to remember. So many families no longer starving, yuletide logs for the burning fire, actual presents under the tree – well, for those who could afford trees – and family togetherness and smiles on faces for everyone. The first time in _years_.

All because of Tessa Alvarado, hiding behind her mask.

_This_ Christmas, however…was back to square one.

Ever-since the Williams debacle, a cloud of despair had loomed over Santa Helena and showed no signs of clearing. The disgraced Lieutenant Williams had once again been 'reassigned' to demeaning escort duties, tax collections and Montoya's laundry; out of favour with the Royal Court (probably for good), shunned by the people he'd let down, the laughing stock of the aristocracy…

And the unknowing, unwilling betrayer of all his friends. The best ones he could ever have in life.

Lionel hadn't dared to show his face to Tessa, Marta or Robert since Montoya had gained possession of Williams' own journal. He could only retreat deeper and deeper into his shame. But even though the colonel and his captain could use their evidence of Tessa's secret identity against her, Senorita Alvarado likewise could compromise them with the knowledge that they were behind her father's murder.

The dark secrets the mortal enemies shared over one another had now created a volatile ceasefire - one that was _so fragile_ -it was bound to shatter with horrific consequences. Every second it didn't was just borrowed time, designed for tormenting Tessa and all she loved…

Even _more_.

And the storm had already arrived in Santa Helena. In this part of California, it was mostly beautiful sunshine, turning the land and hills a hundred different shades of gold. In spite of all the rampages of criminals and the blood that spilt on the sand, Santa Helena somehow managed to remain a beautiful place, with the sun shining down, signalling that eventually everything would be okay.

But on the rare occasions when dark clouds formed over this particular part of California…the rain wouldn't just drop from the sky, it would _pour_. Creating a tidal wave ready to devastate happy life, signalling irrefutably…

That things _weren't_ going to be okay. Not this time.

Those who weren't aware of the _real_ story why Williams couldn't succeed, nevertheless knew that the 'peacetime' wouldn't last this Christmas. They would be no snow, no comfort, no joy…

Just a flood of rain, more tears and more blood…

As Tessa Alvarado, Marta and Doctor Robert Helm would find out, together in the town square, shopping for Christmas.

As Colonel Luis Montoya walked down the steps from his office, and paced purposefully towards them…

With his evil smile.

* * *

><p>Tessa browsed at the oranges for sale, half-heartedly picking up random fruits to see which would be the best ones for the orange cake Marta was going to bake for Christmas Day. Vainly trying to rebuild the mess that her life had now become, only to realise – immediately – that she couldn't put things back to the way they were.<p>

She looked at Marta and Robert, both the same as her. Trying (and _failing_) to go about their daily lives in an attempt to deal with the insanity that had tainted them all. And the senorita felt responsible for it all. Tessa had wanted to do nothing but good, avenge her father's death, bring hope to the people and restore her home to its happiness.

And all she had done, by becoming the Queen of Swords…was escalate the ruination of Santa Helena into a hellish nightmare.

_WHAT good has my destiny brought me?_ grimaced Tessa, so alone in her torment. _Antonio dead, too many innocent lives lost and ruined, Marta and Robert ever-suffering and compromised, my secret in enemy-hands because I trusted the wrong person, his wife and child forever in danger…all because of ME._

_WHY do I keep doing this? Why do I keep hiding behind a mask and interfering? I just make things worse, Papa! That's all I do!_

_Why can't I just STOP?_

"You're looking very distressed, Senorita."

Tessa slowly turned her head to face Montoya's mocking smile.

"Very _uncharacteristic_ of you, I must say," the colonel shook his head, feigning sympathy, "to see you _pouting_ over the quality of oranges at Christmas time. At least, uncharacteristic of the Tessa Alvarado _I_ 'knew'."

No longer bothering to hide her anger, Tessa glared and retorted, "Felt like crawling out from under your rock…just for Christmas, Montoya?"

"You tell me, Alvarado. _You're_ the expert when it comes to hiding. Whether it be in your father's shadow…or under your _mother's shawl_."

Tessa's eyes widened with alarm. The _way _the colonel had described the Queen's mask. So…_intimately_. Surely Williams didn't mention _those _details in his journal! Before she could even ask 'how', 'why' or exactly 'what', the governor cut her off.

"At a loss for words, my dear?" he grinned at her, revelling in her torment. "Not so confident when you're so _exposed_ and _vulnerable_, are you? As I'm sure that pestilent Raul and your precious Antonio would attest."

Doctor Helm thrust himself between Tessa and Montoya at that point, menacingly facing down the still-grinning jackal.

"You leave her alone," Robert ordered threateningly.

"Ah, Doctor Helm," greeted Montoya condescendingly, "how _noble_ of you to defend your lady's honour. After _insulting_ it for so long."

Tessa gently moved her lover aside, shushing insistently, "It's alright, Robert." The Englishmen refused to take his eyes off their enemy, yet he allowed the Spaniard to stand up for herself.

"This is between you and me, Colonel. You leave my family out of this."

"If only that were true, Senorita. It _could've_ been just between us. But it span out of control all too quickly on that _very first_ day. It involved Capitan Grisham and your ridiculous servant, then it went to involve the good Doctor Helm, and countless more…before finally ending with your new favourites…_the Williams family_. And thanks to _my_ wonderful lieutenant Lionel…it now involves _everyone_."

"And doesn't _that_ bring a warm smile to your little black heart, Judas," Marta said boldly.

Turning his attention to the Gypsy, a now irritated Montoya scoffed, "Forgetting your place as usual, _peasant_? It doesn't surprise me, though it really should. Especially after that 'Leonardo' business. Rebelling against soldiers, throwing yourself into a life on the run with a fugitive…only to run back to the child who needs you like a horse cart needs a _third wheel_."

Getting right into Marta's face, the colonel then remarked with, "_Pathetic – hypocritical – lost – Gypsy – SLAVE._"

Though she tried hard to appear tough, Marta looked _genuinely_, _deeply_ affected by the Colonel's cruel words. The angry Tessa now placed herself to defend Marta, facing her arch-nemesis again.

"_How dare you _speak to Marta like that," sneered the aristocrat to the smirking colonel. "I'll…"

It looked like Tessa and Montoya were actually going to come to blows in _public_. Actually unmasked in front of everyone. But before anything could happen…cries of panic erupted from the crowd. Shots fired, and everyone turned to see a crazed man firing a pistol at the soldiers pursuing him as he ran, before running for his life, knocking people over as he tried to escape with the bag in his hand.

Tessa's mind raced, wondering what to do. She couldn't do anything in public, not as Senorita Alvarado. Montoya was baiting her, _daring _her even to try and expose herself to stop this madness or risk innocent people get hurt. As the soldiers on horses fired, the people scattered in a blind panic. The situation was growing bad – FAST. People were going to trample each other to death if not careful, and with the disgraced Lieutenant Williams not around to handle the situation, Captain Grisham's pack were given free reign.

And the way the shots were being fired, through inaccurate pistols and rifles, innocent bystanders were going to get caught in the crossfire.

Then it struck Tessa.

The pursuit of this 'dangerous criminal' with 'a sack of gold', doubtless released as part of a 'fox hunt', all orchestrated with the intent to catch Tessa unawares and powerless…

As _Grisham_ would take aim with his _pistol_. _Again_.

Tessa could see the still-bruised, now smirking visage of her hated foe. They saw each other amidst the panicking crowd and the horsemen fanning the flames. He'd raised his weapon and would soon get his aim perfect.

He had Doctor Helm _dead_ in his sights. Robert's name would be added to the list of people who Grisham had killed with a bullet from afar. Antonio, Carlotta…Don Raphael Alvarado…among countless more.

Tessa turned to look where her soul mate was. He'd been separated from her and Marta, trying to calm the situation down, only to find himself scrambling to reach Tessa. He hadn't seen Grisham aim his pistol at him like Tessa had. The only thing he could see was Tessa running towards him, screaming his name as she ran to save his life. The senorita couldn't let this happen! Not again!

Then Marta – also trying to get to Tessa and Robert through the frightened masses - had also seen what was going on.

Grisham slowly started to squeeze the trigger. Two lovebirds with one overdue death-stone.

Robert could then see the bastard about to fire.

TOO LATE.

Tessa's dive saved him just in time.

The crowd continued to shriek and run like chickens.

But to Tessa and Robert…time had stood still.

Along with Marta's body.

Which then fell backward to the ground.

The Gypsy had sacrificed herself to save Tessa AND Robert.

Tessa screamed her horror and denial as she ran over to cradle Marta's body. Robert ran over, pleading with Tessa to let go and let the Doctor tend to her immediately. As the soldiers 'finally' worked to get the crowd back under control, Montoya surveyed the chaos from his balcony.

Smiling at the senorita reduced to tears once more, smiling at the interfering Gypsy getting what she had coming, smiling at Grisham who had long disposed of the decoy to secure their 'cover'…

And smiling…as the colonel turned back to the lovely wine decanter waiting for him on his office desk.

* * *

><p>It had been another blatant Montoya set-up.<p>

The 'escaped' prisoner had been shot dead shortly after Marta had taken the bullet for Tessa and Robert. A pistol on the ground had been found near his dead left hand, conveniently placed there by a soldier, who no one would notice due to the chaos that occurred in the event.

All made to set up that the released thief had shot Marta, and Grisham had shot him dead immediately after.

When he'd been nothing more than yet another innocent victim of Montoya's to be used and then discarded.

With no one the wiser of who the real killer and victim had been.

As always, Doctor Helm had worked his damndest to try and save the life of his patient. Tessa had refused to leave Marta, volunteering to help Robert tend to the wound. Helm hadn't time to be considerate, so he'd had to demand that the senorita leave him be, actually throwing her out of his office and yelling at her to trust her.

The last few hours had been a blur. Montoya and Grisham had vanished, and so had Tessa. Williams was nowhere to be found, and no one had heard from Maria either. Robert hadn't time to think about any of that, only to try and save the life of the Gypsy woman who had been so kind to him, done so much to support his relationship with Tessa. Despite the rocky start and all the ups-and-downs between him and Senorita Alvarado, Doctor Helm had always liked Marta. Ever since his welcoming party, when Robert had tended to her injured hand. Even after being freaked out by the Gypsy's palm-reading – instantly learning about his bloody past – Robert Helm really took to Tessa's servant.

Their friendship had grown just as his love for the Queen had.

Helm couldn't let her die; not Tessa's surrogate mother! Not the face of one of the sweetest, most loyal human beings he'd ever met!

It had been a struggle. But Robert had finally managed to stop the bleeding. The rest was now up to God. And Marta herself.

As Marta's body lay on the table, made comfortable by the sheets and the pillow placed under her head, Robert poured himself a small glass of whisky. Sighing both wearily and despairingly, the Doctor cast a look at the Gypsy, lowered his head in sadness, looked up at the ceiling and finally took a sip from the glass.

The beverage did little to ease the surgeon's pain; his _guilt_. The adrenaline now subsided, the Englishman began to regret how he'd yelled at Tessa to leave him alone, not thinking – or even _caring_ - about her already highly-delicate emotional state. How badly this latest tragedy had already affected her.

Never-ending remorse, never-ending regret. For anything and everything they all did.

With Montoya and Grisham…just laughing their arses off.

The front door opened and Tessa made her way in (without knocking again). Like too many times over the last few months, the Spaniard's face was streaked with evidence of tears. As soon as Tessa turned to see the body of the woman who she loved like her own parent, Robert feared that the Senorita would break down again. When Tessa didn't speak, she turned back to Doctor Helm, who then realised she was waiting to hear the diagnosis.

"The bullet literally missed her heart by half-an-inch, Tessa," he began quietly. "But she's lost a lot of a blood and it was a great shock to her system. I've done all I can. The rest is up to Marta now."

Tessa walked over to Marta's tableside and knelt down. The young aristocrat had shed all the tears she could _possibly_ shed over the last several weeks. All that remained on her face was a frozen mixture of pain, guilt and despair. All of it that had plagued her life, brought on by others…and _herself_.

"Robert…" she began, "this shouldn't have happened to her. I wanted to save my home. Not drive it deeper into ruin. I wanted to give hope to the people. I didn't mean to drag them all down with me. Especially not Marta."

"TESSA," the doctor began again, his tone hardening as he knelt down to look her in the eye, "you _have_ given the people hope. You've inspired good, you've given them back their happiness, and you've saved so many lives. They're all singing songs, eating food on their table, hanging onto family, maintaining an honest living and going to school _because_ of _you_.

"But you also _directly challenged and humiliated_ BOTH the governor and the captain of the guard. Time and again, you persisted. _Of course_ there were going to be reprisals! And _yes_, that was due to your actions as well! That's why I am so against war! That's why I became a doctor! I warned you and so did Marta about all the dangers and the consequences your crusade would bring!

"But you also _listened_ and _learned the hard way_ as time went on. That's why _we both_ stayed with you. Because we were prepared to take the risks with you, to _fight _the war that _needed_ to be fought. Marta will always love you and will always believe in you. That's why she did what she did, and that's why she needs you now more than ever. Because Marta feels exactly the same way _I_ do."

Tessa slowly turned her attention back to the surgeon who placed a warm hand on her cheek.

"You're only allowed to take responsibility for so much, Tessa," Doctor Helm said to her intently. "It's Montoya and Grisham's job to pay for the rest. And it's still your job to serve and protect the people who need you."

Senorita Alvarado contemplated this long and hard. Her eyes looked away from Doctor Helm before she turned her attention back to the comatose body of the Gypsy Servant, placing a kiss on her head. Then Tessa and the doctor both stood up together and embraced hard. Neither would shed any more tears, as the time for despair was now over.

Or so they believed.

"Thank you, Doctor," said the Spaniard as they separated.

"Don't mention it, Senorita." The Englishman cordial nature was then superseded by surprise as his lover turned for the door. "Where are you going?"

Tessa stopped at the door, turned back to Robert and simply said, "To do my job. Look after Marta."

And so Tessa left Robert to go back to his _own_ job. As Tessa closed the door behind her, she took a few steps forward from the Doctor's office and then stopped to look behind her. A dagger was imbedded in the door frame, pinning a note to the wood. The aristocrat looked behind her. The messenger would obviously be long gone by now, but it was still wise to make sure no one else was still watching.

Using her strength and technique, Tessa initially struggled, but ultimately succeeded in wrenching the dagger out of the wood and taking the note. She inspected the dagger and immediately recognised it as the kind soldiers were known to carry. Most likely it belonged to Grisham.

Her suspicions were confirmed as she unfolded the paper. Contained inside was a scrap of black fabric, the same that the Queen's blouse was made of. Tessa would never forget that occasion – so early in her career – when she'd been shot and had lost her blouse after diving off a cliff to escape her pursuers. Neither would she forget when the Queen and the Captain had been trapped in that mine together, nearly suffocating to death until soldier had come to the rescue, and the Queen had escaped by 'swapping clothes'.

Grisham and Montoya had still held onto the clothing they'd seized. After all this time.

Tessa then read the note. It was definitely Grisham's handwriting.

_Meet me where it all started, you little bitch. Nightfall. Let's finish this dance once and for all._

Senorita Alvarado angrily scrunched up the paper in her fist. Then looked to the sky. The clouds were still plaguing the sky, but it had stopped raining. For the moment, anyway. And in the gap in the clouds, the sun could be seen.

Red and setting.

"Where it all started, Marcus," Tessa said darkly to herself, walking off to her date with destiny. "Let's finish this."

* * *

><p>Five minutes after Tessa had gone…<p>

"I'd just come back into town when I heard the news…" explained Maria, greeting Robert with a hug. "Lucia was behind with the preparations for the Christmas market, I was helping her get ready in time for tomorrow."

"And Theresa?" asked Robert as Maria approached the comatose form of Marta.

"With Padre Quintera," Mrs Williams explained. "I'll tell her what's happened when I pick her up. She shouldn't have to see this. Not yet."

Maria's eyes started to well up with tears, as she affectionately stroked Marta's face. The American felt the pain almost as much as Tessa. From welcoming her and her family to Santa Helena all those months ago, from helping her to build a new life and move on from her dark, horrific past…Maria had truly come to view Marta as the mother she wished she'd have had.

Instead of no mother at all.

Maria refused to let her heart break, trying to be strong. To try and rebuild the bridges that had burned between Tessa and Lionel.

Somehow. Someway.

"So how are you feeling?" asked Doctor Helm, making Maria focus on keeping a cool head. "About the other night, when…?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm…I'm fine…" nodded Maria, assuring the surgeon, "it's just…" She shook her head, sighing in dismay, "I just felt really bad about…not doing anything to try and pacify the situation."

"What could you have done, Maria? What could _any _of us have done?"

"I don't know, Robert. The more I think about it all, the more hopeless it seems to be."

Maria exhaled, cast another look at Marta and then said to the Doctor, "Lionel knows he's done wrong, Robert. He feels the guilt eating away at his mistake…just as much as Tessa feels responsible for hers. We've _all _done terrible things, and we're all responsible for getting ourselves to this…this crossroads. But we have to carry on the fight _together_. For _all_ we hold dear…_remember_?"

Robert could _never forget._ The night the vow took place. The Queen of Swords, her servant Marta, Doctor Robert Helm, (then) Sergeant Lionel Williams & his wife Maria, united in love and desire - with Don Raphael Alvarado as their witness – to help the people, to rid their world of crime and corruption, to save Santa Helena…and to see justice finally done.

"I remember," the Doctor nodded. "And I agree with you. But that was _then_, Maria. _Now_…I don't know. _None _of us do anymore. For now, let's just worry about _Marta_."

A solemn Mrs Williams nodded her agreement. It was best to tread carefully, take things one step at a time.

"You'd best leave now," Robert respectfully asked. "I have other appointments."

Maria nodded, promising to visit Marta again and to let her know if Doctor Helm or Tessa needed any help. She left his office and made her way to the school where Theresa would still be waiting with Padre Quintera, _past_ her home time. Already feeling bad about being late for her own daughter, Maria couldn't help but wonder about what Theresa's reaction would be when her mother broke the news about Marta.

_Honesty's the best policy_, Maria reminded herself. _She's a brave little girl with a brain. She has a RIGHT to know…_

_But she shouldn't have to experience this! I didn't when I was her age! God, Dad…why couldn't I see what you were trying to do back in America? Why am I such an arrogant idiot? Why can't I…?_

As Maria went round the corner, into the heart of the town where the school was, she looked up front. The American's eyes widened, she stopped dead in her tracks and immediately pressed her body against the wall of the nearest building. Using the barrels for cover, Maria carefully stuck her head out to get enough of a look.

It was Grisham, trying to calm down Vera Hidalgo. She looked upset, probably about what had happened to Marta. Grisham looked like he was assuring her with the lie that it had been that escaped convict…and Vera slowly started to seem pacified.

Maria narrowed her eyes, studying hard. She was just close enough to get a proper look at their lips moving, yet far enough to stay out of their sight. Relying on what Lionel had taught her, Maria read their silent conversation, their reactions. Five minutes later, Grisham and Vera finally parted ways.

The last thing Maria caught sight of was a naughty wink the two lovers exchanged with each other. Maria hid back behind the barrels as Grisham walked past, oblivious to her presence. The housewife gulped and tried to regain her composure, shocked and appalled over what the captain and the senora had discussed.

After the truth settled in, Maria turned to cast one last look at Vera as she turned to mount her horse carriage.

The American sneered angrily to herself, "Vera, you treacherous bitch!"

* * *

><p>Doctor Helm had locked the door after seeing his last patient. It was getting dark, the sun was about to go down. He really felt like another drink, but resisted the urge. Robert knew there was nothing more he could do for Marta now…except wait.<p>

And pray more.

The Englishman looked to the Gypsy's still-comatose form on the table. Still no change, still no sign. She just remained as she was. Peacefully sleeping.

Or peacefully dying.

"Come on, Marta," begged Helm in a hushed tone. "You're stronger than this. _Please_."

The response was still silence. Feeling that there was going to be no immediate change, Robert resigned himself to the direction of his drinks cabinet. But before he could leave the room, Robert's ears flared upon detecting a faint groaning. He looked back to see the right corner of Marta's lips slowly begin to form a pained scowl. Her brow condensed into a squint and soon her face began to show fear.

Like a nightmare was beginning to rouse her into consciousness.

"Marta? Marta?" Robert gently asked, rushing to her side.

"No…" she mumbled fearfully, starting to turn her head. Robert quickly got his stethoscope to listen to her heartbeat. It was becoming increasingly erratic, which alarmed Robert greatly.

"Marta, calm down!"

"No! No! No!" the Gypsy servant screamed as she shot up out of the bed and into the comforting arms of the surgeon. She panted her fear and clutched the Englishman tightly, her eyes frozen wide by the vision which had brought her back to the living.

"Easy, Marta, easy…" shushed Doctor Helm, gently laying her back down onto the table, easing her head back onto the pillow. "You're lucky to be alive. You're in tremendous shock, now PLEASE try to…"

"Robert…I'm so glad you're both…" The Gypsy looked around her warily, immediately realising what was wrong.

"Where is Tessa?" she demanded to know.

"She's fine. Thanks to you. Now please rest, you need to save your strength. Don't worry about…"

"I was _wrong_. Lionel…_he _was right."

Unable to be deterred by Marta's declaration, the confused Doctor couldn't help but ask, "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know everything," she began to explain quietly, filled with remorse. "I…I thought I did. When the sergeant first arrived, he wasn't unlike any we'd known before. After we befriended Maria, after that whole Garcia farm business…the Queen wanted to know if she and the American would become allies.

"The Queen of Swords…and the Ten of Wands. Their destinies intertwined, through Death…they will bring about the Wheel of Fortune. I…I thought it was all only referring to what went down with Sergeant Pablo…but I was wrong. I read it all wrong.

"The events spiralling towards full circle…are NOT just one process, they're still ongoing. Their destinies are still intertwined – Tessa and Lionel, the Queen and the Golden Boy – more death WILL come. Before the Wheel of Fortune changes _everything_ forever. Tessa's destiny is still yet to be fulfilled, the Lovers will be separated by Death…

"And Tessa…Grisham…"

"What about them?" asked Robert, growing more and more afraid by each word.

"Death. I see only death…" croaked Marta, before losing her strength and retreating back to her unconscious state. Leaving Doctor Robert Helm shaken and very alone.

As the dark clouds began to clap thunder…and flash lightning.

* * *

><p>"Tessa? Tessa, are you home?"<p>

Vera had just invited herself in. She knew Tessa wouldn't mind, even in light of what happened today. If she was in, Vera would explain that she'd come round to give her condolences – which _was_ true. If she wasn't…then it would give her chance to do that little favour that Marcus had asked her.

It would be no different than that time when she 'walked in on' Marcus' rough-handling of the bandit Ramon and she'd soothed the dishonoured and disgraced son of a Don into confessing the location of all the loot he and his cohorts had stashed.

While the Captain eavesdropped.

Truth be told, Vera loved being a 'bad girl'. Marcus liked to say that "everybody loves a bad boy", and the Senora had been quick to agree. She just couldn't help herself but be drawn to the corrupt captain the moment he arrived in Santa Helena. The danger he radiated, that beard, the perfect body to DIE for. Vera had always appreciated Gaspar for being so kind and giving to her, for genuinely loving her and making her the centre of his whole world.

It was she had needed after managing to escape Bernardo.

But Vera couldn't help herself. She needed excitement. She couldn't help but be drawn back to the wrong side, and what had made Marcus so much better than Bernardo was that Grisham would never go as far as he would. The Captain would never do anything to hurt her…

Well, apart from causing her to fall off her horse, putting her in a coma, and drugging her…but at least he'd apologised, so it didn't matter!

And the thrill and risk of having an affair with someone so dangerous and powerful…it was such a turn-on for the Senora. It's what she needed to feel so alive!

And as for being a spy for him and the Colonel…Vera had no problem doing that. If it kept her secret safe and meant more 'rewards' from Marcus, Vera saw no wrong-doing.

Besides…this was Santa Helena. _Everyone_ was corrupt. _Everyone_ had scandalous secrets.

But to be honest, Vera couldn't quite believe that about Tessa Alvarado or even Marta. Marcus had implied something wrong, that the reason that the 'murderous madman' had targeted them was because he'd confessed upon death that they'd stolen riches from him. It all sounded farfetched, but then Vera remembered Tessa helping both her and Gaspar during that 'pact business' over Horatio's gold. Tessa could obviously keep a secret.

And be trusted with them.

Vera felt bad about snooping round Tessa's house like this, but as she reminded herself, she surely wouldn't mind. And besides, this was imperative to the investigation, as Marcus had said. The military were pre-occupied with other cases, and with Senorita Alvarado doubtless 'too traumatised' to be approached for comment, Marcus needed her to do this for her.

Of _course_ Vera would do it for her 'shining Capitan'! And then fun and games later on in the evening.

The unfaithful Senora called out her friend's name one more time, and when she was satisfied that no one else was in the house but her, Vera began to have a look round the living room. She saw the portrait of Raphael Alvarado hanging above the fireplace. She'd seen it before, of course. In all the times she'd come over to the Alvarado Hacienda, Vera knew how much the Don meant to his daughter. They _were_ friends, after all.

Vera spent the next few minutes picking up books, opening drawers, checking shelves and searching here, there & everywhere. There was nothing that gave Marcus' theories any credibility and wondered if maybe he'd been wrong. The Senora decided it was worth searching one last time, and turned back to the drawers in the dresser at the far wall. When she'd checked before, Vera could only find coasters and spare tablecloths.

_This_ time round…she found a curious small scrap of black material buried underneath.

A remnant of lace shawl.

Studying it in her hand at first, then holding it up in front of her with both hands…Vera realised that it was just the kind of material that the Queen of Swords wore on her face. There were even eye holes cut out! This _was _her actual mask! What was it doing here at the Alvarado Hacienda?

Then Vera realised just how much Tessa looked like her if she had the same mask.

Finally, Vera realised with total shock…the _truth_. She gasped with exclamation, covering her mouth as she did, eyes widened with disbelief.

"_Yeah_…" remarked Maria, her now-menacing figure stood in the doorway. "That's _everyone's_ reaction when they discover the truth."

Vera turned to see the American housewife. Alarm overcame the Senora as she spluttered trying to form a pitiful lie and then pathetically tried to hide the Queen's mask behind her.

"M-Maria! I was just…!"

"_Don't – you – DARE_," growled Mrs Williams, her anger rising more by the second. "I know _exactly_ why you're here, Hidalgo."

Vera nervously backed away as Maria approached. She'd never seen this intense glare from her friend before! And as Vera was backed up against the table, she realised that she didn't know Maria – and Tessa – as well as she _thought_.

"That bastard Grisham sent you here, didn't he?"

"No, I came to see if Tessa was alright, that's all!" blurted out Vera defensively. "I didn't expect…!"

"STOP LYING, you deceitful cow!" yelled Maria, as she slapped Vera across the cheek. The Senora shrieked as the vicious sting hurt her enough to start shedding tears immediately. "If you were here JUST to see if Tessa was 'alright' – which she is FAR FROM thanks to the bastard you sleep with behind your OWN HUSBAND'S back! – why would you be rummaging through _her_ drawers?!"

"That's not true!" protested Vera. "Marcus didn't shoot Marta!"

"You're either lying again or you're the stupidest person in all Santa Helena!"

"Marcus told me that it was that escaped bandit who shot her! He-he was after…!"

"'Riches that he claimed – as he was dying - Tessa and Marta STOLE from him, Montoya believes that the matter should be investigated, Tessa's too distraught for comment, the colonel and captain are occupied, he sent you to uncover any clue that could help', yada-yada-yada!" finished Maria sarcastically.

"How did you…?" asked the all-the-more shocked Vera.

"PLEASE! Unlike you, I kiss _only_ _my_ husband's lips, and he taught me to _read others_! And when _you're_ not kissing Grisham's lips and other body parts, _he's _doing the same to all the other floozy Spanish rich wives he's got lined up!"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" cried Vera, on the verge of breaking down.

"FACE FACTS, Vera! You're just his _sex_ _toy_! His favourite hobby when he comes home from murdering other innocent people just like he killed Tessa's dad in cold blood! Just like all the other lives he's ruined and destroyed!"

"No..." denied Vera, shaking her head and looking away from Maria, who angrily snatched the lace mask out of her hands.

"And _you're_ just as evil as he is!" scorned Mrs Williams. "For all your adultery, I actually felt you were a good woman at heart! How many times has Tessa kept her mouth shut for you?! How many times has the Queen saved your life and helped you?! More times than you deserve!

"Why _I _kept your secret after I found out, I'll never know now! You can't be trusted with anything! You have true friends, all the wealth in the world and one of the nicest, most genuine human beings possible for a husband! And yet you remain the unfaithful bitch who thinks only about herself! Who wouldn't hesitate for a moment to do _anything_ for her 'shining Capitan!'"

"STOP IT!" cried Vera at Maria.

"Prove it, then!" demanded Maria, grabbing her hand and snatching the Queen's mask out of it. "Prove me wrong! I really _want _to be after all that's happened!"

And Maria thrust the lace disguise back into Vera's hand, before storming out of the room, to finally pick up Theresa from school.

All Vera could do was just stare long and hard at the material in her hand.

Her heart completely torn.

* * *

><p>Nightfall. The sun was down. The clouds were blacker than Grisham could ever recall seeing in Santa Helena. The rain was about to pour from the sky, heralded by thunder and lightning. And as the murderous Captain surveyed the land from the hillside, he couldn't help but reflect what had happened, now coming up to two years ago.<p>

It all flashed before Marcus like lightning.

Montoya ordering the assassination of Raphael Alvarado. Just another day at the office for Grisham. The American liked his job, liked having fun taking lives and being the bad bully. And yeah, he liked blaming it on his depraved upbringing. Even though Montoya still held his leash, he didn't mind so long as he gave him enough free reign.

Even though Grisham despised Dons, he'd felt indifferent about killing Alvarado. It was just business as usual. His daughter had _made_ it personal between them. And Marcus still couldn't understand it really. He genuinely believed that another time, another place…they could actually have been lovers. In and out of that ravishing costume, Tessa Alvarado was the most sensational woman Marcus Grisham had ever laid eyes on, more so (in a lot of ways) than Vera…and Maria Williams admittedly.

Why she fell for losers like that Antonio and Dr. Helm, Marcus just couldn't figure out _why_.

"_I don't have issues with men, Marcus," the Queen smiled back at him. "I have issues with you."_

"_Don't give me that," replied the Captain angrily. "Everybody loves a bad boy."_

"_Well, sometimes nice girls like nice boys."_

That time when they were trapped in the mine together would stay with both of them forever. As would the moment when Grisham had the chance to finally unmask her himself and learn the truth. And he'd chosen not to. He didn't know why. Maybe it was what made their relationship so much…fun.

But fun-time was over. _That_ ship had now officially sailed. Only thing left now…was to put the crazy little girl out of her misery.

And reunite her with her father.

"You're sure she'll show up _here_, Capitan?" asked Sergeant Hernandez. "This is where…"

"She'll show," assured Grisham. "She always does. Now remember my orders. You, Martin and the others stay out of sight. I'll handle her myself. _Only _come down the hillside on my signal. _Got it_?"

"Yes, sir," nodded the sergeant, who rode off in the opposite direction to take his position. The sky flashed and the clouds clapped as Grisham kicked his steed to slowly begin its march down the hill.

* * *

><p>Tessa dismounted Chico and patted him affectionately, whispering in his ear, "If anything happens to me, Chico…"<p>

The loyal steed snorted his refusal to abandon his owner and friend, but the Queen just gently shushed him with "It's alright, boy. I promise."

Chico affectionately lowered his head against Tessa, who returned the sentiment and told the animal that she loved him too. With her loyal steed safe and hidden behind suitable cover, the Queen of Swords emerged to survey this part of the desert.

"_Where it all started."_

Senorita Alvarado knew exactly where Captain Grisham meant in the letter.

The place where her father had died. The exact location had always been known to Tessa, even in that letter she'd received back in Madrid two years ago. The 'official' reports Tessa had read detailing the 'horse riding accident'. She had visited this spot only once before as the Queen; during her initial investigations to unearth the truth…so early on in her career.

Now that Tessa actually knew what had really happened on that day…she could see it all. Like she was actually there.

The Queen felt a warm hand gently rest on her shoulder. She knew who it belonged to. And it helped her bear the pain.

"One man…held a gun," reminded Don Raphael Alvarado. "But there were many fingers on the trigger."

Night became day. Father and daughter stood together to observe Captain Grisham, Sergeant Hernandez, Corporals Martin and Juan and Private Raul chase a good man through the countryside. One bullet wounding the aristocrat mortally…and yet, the pride and bravery of Raphael willed him on. Refusing to give up, refusing to surrender…the Don kept riding on.

Making his little girl proud.

Then Grisham took the rifle, handed to him by Raul…and finished the job. In cold blood. As the Queen finally witnessed what had happened on that day, she turned to her father. No longer shocked, no longer distraught…but braver than ever.

"I always knew you weren't a coward," she told him, vindicated.

"But did you remember that the truth is a scorpion that dances round your feet?" he asked.

"…I don't fear the scorpion anymore. You said don't be afraid."

Raphael smiled at his masked daughter, bringing his hand up to caress her cheek. Tessa could still feel the warmth of his touch, like she had all those years growing up. Like she had in that unforgettable dream…where she first learned of her destiny.

"My avenging angel…she will see justice is done.

"I love you, Tessa."

The Queen opened her eyes. She was standing on her own once more…in the dark desert, content and ready.

"I love you too, Papa," she whispered gently to herself.

"Hello, babe."

The vigilante span on the spot to face her mortal enemy. Lightning flashed and thunder clapped ominously. The rain at last began to fall from the sky. God was crying and the tears would form a flood. Washing away the blood to clean the slate, and begin anew.

"Your slave not dead yet…witch?" asked Marcus, grinning evilly.

"This all ends tonight, Marcus," she glared, quietly. Menacingly.

The Captain of the Guard smirked and just drew his pistol, aiming for right in-between her beautiful eyes. Tessa didn't even flinch.

Tense seconds passed…before Marcus just threw the pistol far away to one side. He then drew his sword as the Queen drew her own.

"Yeah…" agreed Grisham, no longer smiling as he thought about all the humiliations, the defeats…and the fact that he had something to prove. "Yeah, it does."

The rain poured, the clouds split apart with roars and electricity…the sky began to fall, as the combatants began their duel to the death.

Right from the get-go, the intensity erupted through their fast, furious limbs and the blades they wielded. Nothing else mattered except the other's bloody, honourable and most magnificent demise.

Immediately, the Queen was forced on the defensive, thanks to Grisham's greater power and experience. But she was much quicker than the Captain, more skilled and quick-witted. And she'd been taught by the _best!_ She'd been taught by Senor Torres, the finest fencing instructor in all Madrid! The Avenging Angel had trounced her hated foe so many times before! She would easily do it again! She would…!

Tessa paid the price for her overconfidence again. Just like before when Grisham had feigned a mortal wound to disarm her. Just like several months ago when he'd shot her and broke her ribs with that sledgehammer! Grisham had kicked her legs out from underneath her, then kicked a load of sand into her face whilst she was down.

Blinded and now vulnerable, the Avenging Angel acted on instinct, outstretching and spinning her legs round, hoping to trip up the corrupt Captain. Through pure luck, she actually connected and tripped up the surprised Grisham. Still rotating her body and legs, Tessa struck Marcus again, this time in the mouth.

The vigilante then stopped and twisted her body accordingly to right herself up onto her feet. Her vision was still hazy because of the sand, but she could make out the trailing image of her rapier on the ground. The Queen made a grab for it but Marcus had recovered quicker than she expected. It was his turn to trip her up, and she fell face-first on the ground. Grisham, now sporting a bloody-mouth, mounted on top of the masked Tessa, placed both hands round the throat, and began to squeeze.

The Queen dared to look at the crazed eyes of her father's killer. The gaze was sinister, unbalanced and deadlier than ever. It was not the Grisham the masked senorita had known through battle and conversation.

Then the irony hit the female warrior. Their roles had reversed from when Tessa had broke into Grisham's quarters trying to murder _him_. For one moment, the Queen _almost _felt like she deserved this. To finally die at his hand, especially after what she'd done to Vera and Marta.

But then she remembered her father. The guilt turned back into rage and the masked Tessa brought her fists up, boxing the Captain's ears. The stinging sensation affected his equilibrium, making Marcus relinquish the stranglehold. Now his turn to be disorientated, the Queen quickly nursed her throat to get the circulation back, before seizing the opportunity to reclaim her sword. Knowing she had no time to spare, Senorita Alvarado charged with her blade at the Captain, aiming to run through him like she'd done Raul.

The Queen was a fraction too late. Marcus had fought off enough of his dizziness to see her coming at him in the corner of his eye. He narrowly avoided being impaled, and allowed himself a brief moment to look at the blade tear through his uniform and scratch his side, causing it to bleed. Angered, the Captain backhanded the vigilante right in the mouth, busting it open. She still held onto the sword, yet as she rolled with Grisham's blow, she left herself open again.

The Captain, knowing he had to compensate for his missing sword, saw the vigilante's dagger in her boot. He quickly made a grab, narrowly avoiding Alvarado's decapitation swing. Marcus successfully drew her own dagger and used the smaller blade to block the bigger rapier. Using his superior strength, Grisham repelled the sword away from him and then deflected the sword again. The Queen advanced with her bigger weapon, forcing Grisham back on the defensive.

He then noticed in the corner of his eyesight…the sword just a few feet away. Allowing the vigilante to drive him back, Grisham waited for his moment to find an opening to drive her away and reclaim his sword. But Tessa knew what he was up to and increased the speed of her triangles. At any moment, she'd kill him any second now! Marcus panicked momentarily and struck out wildly. The rapier cut his left arm badly, just underneath the shoulder, but the Avenging Angel had been worse off.

The dagger had struck viciously up her left cheek, only just missing her eye by _millimetres_! A deep, bloody gash crossed the Queen's face.

Her _exposed _face.

The combatants had reached a stand-off. Grisham smirked upon noticing that the dagger had cut the lace mask. He chuckled with sinister delight at Tessa, who sported a pained expression, nursing her wound with her gloved hand to cover the bleeding.

"Look at you," taunted Marcus, as the exposed Tessa just scowled at him. "Even without the mask, you're still _so_ sexy. I think I appreciate you more when your ribs break or your face bleeds. Did…what's his name…ANTONIO…feel the same way when _he_ found out the truth? Just before he _died_?"

Tessa gritted her teeth, yelling at the captain as she attacked in rage. Grisham had now reclaimed his own sword and they went at it again. Even as the rain continued to drench the two mortal enemies, they fought on.

Grisham knew that he had the upper hand now. He was inside the unmasked Queen's head. And she was again letting Antonio's death fuel her passion, her obsession for revenge. Wounded, distracted by Marta's comatose state, tired and uncomfortable because of the weather, it was inevitable for the Avenging Angel to now be fighting below par.

She knocked the dagger out of Grisham's hand, but he seized the moment to grab Tessa's arm, get behind her and wrap his forearm round her neck. The American brought his sword to try and touch her throat, but the Spaniard blocked it and fiercely grappled against the enemy blade, struggling to get free. The Captain began to chuckle as increased the pressure.

"Like I said that time at the mine, Tessa," grinned Marcus evilly. "It's B.S. luck. NOT 'skill'. And tonight…it _finally_ fades."

_It won't end like this, _Tessa thought to herself, more determined than ever. _It CAN'T end like this_._ I WON'T let it_.

"Just so you know before you go," Grisham whispered in her ear, "your ex-boyfriend had it coming. Your daddy…probably not."

Tessa brought her foot down hard and sharp on Grisham's own. It hurt enough to make him loosen his grip. The unmasked Queen lowered her head and brought it right back up with what she had left, bloodying Grisham's nose. The stinging shock made the captain let go and back away. Senorita Alvarado renewed her offensive by slashing the captain's chest, tearing his uniform and inflicting next blood.

"They were _both_ ten times the man _you'll_ ever be, you bastard!" she yelled in fury.

"Oh, please! Spare me!" mocked the captain, as thrust forward with his sword. The unmasked Queen deflected it with her own strike. Thunder, lightning and rain howled in despair. They continued to clash swords, beat, curse and maim each other.

"STOP IT! STOP IT!"

The mortal enemies continued to clash, refusing to relent in their blood feud. Grisham was the first to hear the faint cries of desperate pleading. The unmasked Tessa soon began to hear it as well, through the hard rain and thunder.

"STOP IT! STOP IT!"

Vera, wearing a brown cloak, and riding her horse towards the combatants at full speed, screamed at them both to stop fighting. She tugged the reins, commanding her steed to stop, putting herself right between her lover and her best friend. Grisham couldn't believe Vera was throwing herself in the line of fire again. The still-bleeding Tessa was absolutely shocked to see Vera actually here!

_How did she know where to find us?!_ the unmasked Queen stared in disbelief. _More importantly, how did she find out who I am?!_

"Both of you, please stop!" Vera implored desperately. "You have to stop!"

"Vera, get out of the way!" yelled the frustrated Grisham. "You remember what happened last time!"

"I don't care, Marcus! You're going to kill each other! I won't let you do this!"

"VERA, MOVE!" shouted Tessa. "I don't want to hurt you again!"

"We've ALL hurt each other, Tessa!" protested Senora Hidalgo, turning to her friend with tearful eyes. "Are we all prepared to continue hurting each other until we're all DEAD? Is that what you _both _want? REALLY?!"

Vera's courage was uncharacteristic. It took both Captain Grisham and Senorita Alvarado completely by surprise. Marcus thought she was being stupid, whereas Tessa couldn't help but be proud of her.

"It's too late," insisted Tessa. "It's _far_ too late for this. _He_ killed my father."

"I thought you believed in honour and justice! This isn't the way!"

"Why are you taking _her_ side, Vera?!" shouted an incredulous Grisham. "It's _me_ you love, not her! She nearly killed you whilst she tried to murder me, remember?!

"I love you because I knew you weren't Bernardo!" explained Vera. "Because I thought you wouldn't do anything to hurt me! You've lost your way just like Tessa has, Marcus! Running for so long since the War of 1812! How much longer are you going to run and hurt yourself and others more before you end this?!"

"Don't be stupid! I'll be given the death penalty! Like _she _said, it's far too late for reason! Now move!"

Vera gulped and then bravely told both Marcus _and _Tessa, "I _won't _let you kill each other."

"Vera, DON'T," begged the Queen of Swords. "Don't throw your life away because of _us_."

"I've _already_ thrown it away, Tessa! And I've hurt you, Gasper and so many others by doing so! Maria was right! I…!"

"Maria?! What's she got to do with…?!"

"Enough!" interrupted Grisham, his patience exhausted. Reacting without thinking, he smacked the horse's rear, startling it enough to jerk hard and ride off uncontrollably. Vera shrieked and lost her balance. The unmasked Queen dropped her sword and immediately rushed to catch her friend. Vera landed in Tessa's arms but she wasn't strong enough to support her weight. Tessa collapsed on the ground, winded by the impact as she cushioned Vera's fall.

Vera quickly regained her composure and turned to help her best friend up. She then caught a proper look at Tessa's bleeding face where Grisham's sword had narrowly missed her eye. The Senora put her hand over her mouth in horror, ashamed of herself for allowing all this to happen. To her best friend. To the man she loved.

Tessa was dazed, weary because of the intense fighting, the bitter cold and rain and making a mad catch for Vera.

And that left her wide open.

"DIE, YOU BITCH!" screamed Grisham in blind rage, running right at her with his sword.

Only moments away from gutting the Queen through the abdomen.

"NOOOOOO!" shouted Vera, shoving Tessa out of the way. The vigilante's weariness and captain's rage subsided…too late.

Before Grisham's sword impaled the Senora.

Vera's eyes widened, now controlled by the agony, the shock and despair that overwhelmed her. Her legs lost all their strength immediately and she slowly crumpled into a heap on the ground.

"No…" denied the Captain quietly, the enormity of what he'd just done sinking in slowly and painfully. The beautiful flower was shrivelling up, withering away in the murderer's arms.

"VERA!" screamed Tessa hysterically. Picking herself up, she ran over towards her dying friend, crying, "Not you too! PLEASE not you too!"

"There she is! After her!" came Sergeant Hernandez's voice, as he led the Captain's men into view. Ignoring Grisham's orders, Hernandez had decided they'd waited long enough. He led the other soldiers as the Queen stood paralysed by her whole world now falling apart.

"NO! VERA, PLEASE NO!" screamed Grisham, paying no notice to the Queen or her pursuers whatsoever.

"Tessa…I'm sorry…for everything…" croaked Vera weakly, blood trickling from her mouth. "Run…please…run…"

The unmasked Queen could only cast one last look at Marcus Grisham, lost in a world of his own. Then back at the friend who she would never ever see again. All she could do now was run…again.

As the soldiers all chased after the escaping Queen, Sergeant Hernandez stopped for a moment to cast a look at his commanding officer. He thought about offering some sympathy…but then thought better of it and followed the corporals in pursuit.

The rain continued to pour…or rather, God continued to cry. Over the next poor, unfortunate soul to await judgement.

Along with Marcus Grisham.

"Baby…I never wanted you to get caught up in this," explained the corrupt Captain. Trying to raise an encouraging smile, he braved, "I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry. PLEASE…just hold on! We'll find Helm, you'll be as right as rain, tomorrow night we'll play…!"

"Marcus…" whispered Vera hoarsely, looking right into his eyes with what little life she had left. "Please…stop. You have…to stop…"

Grisham's lip quivered. He looked at the sword still embedded in her torso, the blood rushing like the rain. Marcus Grisham finally looked back at the face of Vera, finally realising that _she_ truly was the one woman he loved more than any other. And he himself had killed her.

He shook his head, unable to accept what was happening. Unable to 'just stop' like she'd asked.

Vera tried lifting her head up to Marcus' own. With her last efforts, she croaked painfully, "Don't…tell Gaspar. I…love…you…"

Grisham shushed her and planted his lips on Vera's own for what would be the final time. They kissed briefly, but passionately.

And then Marcus felt all the life vanish from Vera completely.

He cradled her tightly, refusing to let go. Grisham broke down, sobbing.

And then howling in rage to the dark heavens.


	6. Aftermath

_Disclaimer: Queen of Swords was created by Fireworks Entertainment, and is owned by ContentFilm. This story is NOT affiliated with the rights holders or the show's original creators. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made. This story is for entertainment purposes only._

_The author would like to thank Robert Vincent for all his valuable support and input._

* * *

><p><strong>Aftermath<strong>

21st December 1818.

No one could feel like celebrating Christmas in Santa Helena now.

The rain was subsiding, but there were enough of God's tears left to shower the funeral and those in attendance.

Padre Quintera performed the ceremony as Vera's coffin was lowered into the grave. Don Gaspar Hidalgo struggled to maintain a brave, prideful face for the public. The cracks in his armour were all too visible, and he looked ready to breakdown completely. And no one could blame him. The love of his life, the only person who had ever really loved him…gone forever.

His heart torn away from him…leaving him forever scarred and bleeding.

Vera had always been popular among Santa Helena's elite. All her friends had shown up, absolutely devastated.

Senorita Tessa Alvarado being more so.

The Spanish Aristocrat was uncharacteristically silent. Dressed in black and wearing a veil to hide her guilt in the part she had played – and the cuts and bruises on her face – Tessa paid her respects to her dear, unfortunate friend in the form of a white rose gently tossed into the grave.

Marta had long recovered to stand by her mistress' side, squeezing her hand in comfort. Robert Helm was also on hand to make sure that they were both alright.

The atmosphere of the funeral was one of great mourning, despair and guilt over what had happened. Tessa and Captain Marcus Grisham felt it more than anyone else. Strangely though, neither exchanged even a glare with each other. Both kept their distance away from each other, perhaps more out of mutual loss and sympathy.

Like Tessa Alvarado, Captain Grisham was unnaturally silent throughout the ceremony. As always, he performed his duties, leading his men to salute the departed Senora, yet it was the most painful thing he'd ever had to endure in his life. How Marcus wished he could just…cry like everyone else was crying, join everyone else in paying their respects to his beloved, and let Vera and everyone else know just how much she meant to him.

And how knowing that he could not – under _any_ circumstances – just tore the murdering captain apart. Unable to contain himself completely, Grisham allowed himself a small tear to fall, hoping Montoya wouldn't notice.

However, the Colonel _had _noticed, and let his Captain have his moment, remembering Carlotta. The Governor likewise paid his respects to Vera and Gaspar, taking no joy whatsoever in the Senora's untimely demise. He cast a look at Tessa and her friends and allowed them also to have _their_ moment to grieve.

The exact details of Vera's death never came to public light. The Senora's murder could not be labelled otherwise, but Montoya had decided it best to write it off as 'investigation ongoing' for now – given the fragile stalemate between himself and the Queen of Swords – until he could come up with a new plan.

The Williams family were all in attendance to pay their respects. And like Tessa and Grisham, both Lionel and Maria felt responsible for the part they played in Vera's death. Maria feeling so guilty for tearing into Vera upon discovering Tessa's secret, inciting the Senora into committing suicide.

And Lionel feeling _more so…_knowing that it was _his_ failure with the Juan investigation that had created all this.

After the funeral, the wake took place at the Rose Courtyard. Any chance of celebrating Vera's life and honouring her memory was quickly diminished when Gaspar turned to see Lieutenant Williams and hit him in the face, screaming in rage that it was all his fault that Vera was now dead, little realising how actually true it was. Gaspar was just looking for someone to vent all his grief on, and he could think of no better target than the Golden Boy.

After yelling abuse and slapping Williams again – who simply allowed Gaspar to treat him so – the angry, distraught Don was led away by his fellows. Williams stood on the spot, feeling like he deserved everything he'd received.

And Tessa and Maria…couldn't even face each other.

Later that night, Gaspar sat in his big, cold hacienda all alone with an untouched decanter of wine.

Grisham lay all alone on the bed in his quarters, completely trashed once more. This time by his _own _rage.

Montoya sat all alone in his office…plotting his next move.

Maria and Lionel huddled each other, guilty, responsible and fearful.

As were Tessa and Robert, faraway in their own dwelling.

And Marta…continued to be haunted by visions of the future.

Visions of a bloody, mortally wounded Maria fighting Grisham in the jailhouse…of Montoya's soldiers storming the Alvarado hacienda as Lieutenant Lionel Williams valiantly tried to fight them off…of Mary Rose standing on a hillside looking afraid…of Roman and Fenner in disbelief as to who they'd bumped into, of Kami rushing to her friends' aid, of Maria screaming in despair over what she'd been made to witness, of the whole of Santa Helena being torn apart by rebellion and war…

Of Tessa Alvarado, the Queen of Swords…locked in mortal combat with her arch-nemesis, Colonel Luis Montoya, the corrupt governor…for the very last time.

As Marta screamed her daughter's name…at the massive funeral pyre.

All on her own, at the table in the living room…Marta once more drew the tarot cards.

The Wheel of Fortune.

The Lovers.

And finally…Death.

Marta shook her head in disbelief.

"Please, God…not again."

**THE END?**


End file.
